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The Rose and the Ring 








/i • 







THE ROSE 

AND 


THE RING 

OR THE HISTORY OF PRINCE 
GIGLIO AND PRINCE BULBO 

A Fireside Pantomime for Great and Small Children 

By WILLIAM M. THACKERAY 

NEW YORK 

A. WESSELS COMPANY 

1907 


Copyrighted 1907 
A. WESSELS COMPANY 
New York 
Printed June 1907 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies RecotveU 

DEC 12 i90r 

Copyrigni tntry 

CLASS ^ XXc. «u 
/^H7 

COPY 


eU I 



FACE 

Introduction, v 

Prelude, viii 


Chapter I 

Shows how the Royal Family sate down to Breakfast, . . i 

Chapter II 

How King Valoroso got the Crown and Prince Giglio went 


without, 5 

Chapter III 

Tells who the Fairy Blackstick was, and who were Ever so 

Many Grand Personages besides, ii 

Chapter IV 

How Blackstick was not asked to the Princess Angelica’s 

Christening, . . . . . . . . .16 


Chapter V 

How the Princess Angelica took a Little Maid, ... 20 

Chapter VI 

How Prince Giglio behaved himself, . . ... 26 

Chapter VII 

How Giglio and Angelica had a Quarrel, 36 

Chapter VIII 

How Gruffanuff picked the Fairy Ring up and Prince Bulbo 
came to Court, ... 

vii 


41 


CONTENTS 


Chapter IX PAGE 

How Betsinda got the Warming-pan, . . . . *50 

Chapter X 

How King Valoroso was in a Dreadful Passion, ... 56 

Chapter XI 

What Gruffanuff did to Giglio and Betsinda, . . . .61 

Chapter XII 

How Betsinda fled and what became of her, . . . *71 

Chapter XIII 

How Queen Rosalba came to the Castle of the Bold Count 

Hogginarmo, 77 

Chapter XIV 

What became of Giglio, . 83 

Chapter XV 

We return to Rosalba, 97 

Chapter XVI 

How Hedzoff rode Back Again to King Giglio, . . .104 

Chapter XVII 

How a Tremendous Battle took place and who won it, . . in 

Chapter XVHI 

How they All journeyed Back to the Capital, . . . .119 

Chapter XIX 

And now we come to the Last Scene in the Pantomime, . 

viii 


• 125 



PAGB 

Chapter Heading. Chapter I, i 

Valoroso Rex, 6 

Ye Queen, 7 

Countess GruffanuflF, 9 

Rosalba in the Forest, . . 15 

‘'Get away, Old Blackstick,” he said, 18 

Princess Angelica gives the child the bun, .... 22 

Count Hedzoff, 28 

Squaretoso, 29 

His French cook, Marmitonio, 30 

Prince Bulbo, 33 

Angelica saw her own face, 34 

The King said, “So much for Giglio,^’ 57 

“Your Gruffy!” says the Countess, 60 

King Padella came in, 79 

The Landlady — looking like this, 84 

19 , A brown loaf, 86 

The Undertaker came and measured Bulbo, . . . .106 

The Monks, . . . . . . . . . - n? 

Madam Gruff anuff finds a husband, . . . . .128 


IX 




1 






It happened that the undersigned spent the last Christmas season in a 
foreign city where there were many English children. 

In that city, if you wanted to give a child’s party, you could not even 
get a magic lantern or buy Twelfth-Night characters — those funny painted 
pictures of the King, the Queen, the Lover, the Lady, the Dandy, the 
Captain, and so on — with which our young ones are wont to recreate them- 
selves at this festive time. 

My friend. Miss Bunch, who was governess of a large family, that 
lived in the Piano Nobile of the house inhabited by myself and my young 
charges (it was the Palazzo Poniatowski at Rome, and Messrs. Spillmann, 
two of the best pastry-cooks in Christendom, have their shop on the 
ground floor); Miss Bunch, I say, begged me to draw a set of Twelfth- 
Night characters for the amusement of our young people. 

She is a lady of great fancy and droll imagination, and, having looked 
at the characters, she and I composed a history about them, which was 
recited to the little folks at night, and served as our fireside pantomime. 

Our juvenile audience was amused by the adventures of Giglio and 
Bulbo, Rosalba and Angelica. I am bound to say the fate of the Hall 
Porter created a considerable sensation, and the wrath of Countess Gruffa- 
nuff was received with extreme pleasure. 

If these children are pleased, thought I, why should not others be 
amused also.? In a few days Dr. Birch’s young friends will be expected 
to reassemble at Rodwell Riegs, where they will learn everything that is 
useful and under the eyes of careful ushers continue the business of their 
little lives. 

But in the meanwhile, and for a brief holiday, let us laugh and be as 
pleasant as we can. And you elder folks — a little joking and dancing and 
fooling will do even you no harm. The author wishes you a merry Christ- 
mas, and welcomes you to the Fireside Pantomime. 

M. A. TITMARSH. 

December, 1854. 


XI 







SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SATE DOWN TO 
BREAKFAST. 

[S is Valoroso XXIV., King of Paflagonia, seated 
with his Queen and only child at their royal break- 
fast-table, and receiving the letter which announces 
to his Majesty a proposed visit from Prince Bulbo, 
heir of Padella, reigning King of Crim Tartary. 
Remark the delight upon the monarch’s royal features. He is so 
absorbed in the perusal of the King of Crim Tartary’s letter, that 
he allows his eggs to get cold, and leaves his august muffins untasted. 

“What! that wicked, brave, delightful Prince Bulbo!” cries 
Princess Angelica — “so handsome, so accomplished, so witty, — 
the conqueror of Rimbombamento, where he slew ten thousand 
giants!” 

“Who told you of him, my dear.?” asks his Majesty. 

“A little bird,” says Angelica. 

“Poor Giglio!” says mamma, pouring out the tea. 

[I] 


ROYAL FOLKS AT BREAKFAST TIME 


“Bother Giglio!” cries Angelica, tossing up her head, which 
rustled with a thousand curl-papers. 

“ I wish,’* growls the King — ‘T wish Giglio was . . 

“Was better.? Yes, dear, he is better,’* says the Queen. “An- 
gelica’s little maid, Betsinda, told me so when she came to my room 
this morning with my early tea.” 

“You are always drinking tea,” said the monarch, with a scowl. 

“It is better than drinking port or brandy-and-water,” replies 
her Majesty. 

“Well, well, my dear, I only said you were fond of drinking tea,” 
said the King of Paflagonia, with an effort as if to command his 
temper. “Angelica! I hope you have plenty of new dresses; your 
milliners’ bills are long enough. My dear Queen, you must see 
and have some parties. I prefer dinners, but of course you will 
be for balls. Your everlasting blue velvet quite tires me; and, my 
love, I should like you to have a new necklace. Order one. Not 
more than a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds.” 

“And Giglio, dear,” says the Queen. 

“Giglio, Giglio, Giglio — ” 

“Oh, sir!” screams her Majesty. “Your own nephew! our 
late King’s only son.” 

“Giglio may go to the tailor’s, and order the bills to be sent in 
to Glumboso to pay. Confound him! I mean bless his dear heart. 
He need want for nothing; give him a couple of guineas for pocket- 
money, my dear, and you may as well order yourself bracelets, 
while you are about the necklace, Mrs. V.” 

Her Majesty, or Mrs. F., as the monarch facetiously called her 
(for even royalty will have its sport, and this august family were 

[ 2 ] 


AWFUL CONSEQUENCE OF CRIME 


r 

very much attached), embraced her husband, and, twining her arm 
around her daughter’s waist, they quitted the breakfast-room in 
order to make all things ready for the princely stranger. 

When they were gone, the smile that had lighted up the eyes 
of the husband and father fled — the pride of the King fled — the 
MAN was alone. Had I the pen of a G. P. R. James, I would de- 
scribe Valoroso’s torments in the choicest language; in which I 
would also depict his flashing eye, distended nostril — his dressing- 
gown, pocket-handkerchief, and boots. But I need not say I have 
not the pen of that novelist; suffice it to say, Valoroso was alone. 

He rushed to the cupboard, seizing from the table one of the 
many egg-cups with which his princely board was served for the 
matin meal, drew out a bottle of right Nantz or Cognac, filled an 
emptied cup several times, and laid it down with a hoarse “Ha, ha, 
ha! now Valoroso is a man again!” 

“But oh!” he went on (still sipping, I am sorry to say), “ere I 
was a king, I needed not this intoxicating draught; once I detested 
the hot brandy wine, and quaffed no other fount but nature’s rill. 
It dashes not more quickly o’er the rocks than I did, as, with blunder- 
buss in hand, I brushed away the early morning dew, and shot the 
partridge, snipe, or antlered deer! Ah! well may England’s drama- 
tist remark, ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown!’ Why did 
I steal my nephew’s, my young Giglio’s — ? Steal! said I; no, no, 
no, not steal, not steal. Let me withdraw that odious expression. 
I took, and on my manly head I set, the royal crown of Paflagonia; 
I took, and with my royal arm I wield, the sceptral rod of Paflagonia; 
I took, and in my outstretched hand I hold, the royal orb of Pafla- 
gonia! Could a poor boy, a snivelling, drivelling boy — was in his 

[3] 


] 


MORE ABOUT KING VALOROSO 


nurse’s arms but yesterday, and cried for sugar plums and puled 
for pap — bear up the awful weight of crown, orb, sceptre ? — gird 
on the sword my royal fathers wore, and meet in fight the tough 
Crimean foe ? ” 

And then the monarch went on to argue in his own mind (though 
we need not say that blank verse is not argument) that what he had 
got it was his duty to keep, and that, if at one time he had entertained 
ideas of a certain restitution, which shall be nameless, the prospect 
by a certain marriage of uniting two crowns and two nations which 
had been engaged in bloody and expensive wars, as the Paflagonians 
and the Crimeans had been, put the idea of Giglio’s restoration to 
the throne out of the question: nay, were his own brother. King 
Savio, alive, he would certainly will away the crown from his own 
son in order to bring about such a desirable union. 

Thus easily do we deceive ourselves! Thus do we fancy what 
we wish is right! The King took courage, read the papers, finished 
his muffins and eggs, and rang the bell for his Prime Minister. 
The Queen, after thinking whether she should go up and see Giglio, 
who had been sick, thought, “Not now. Business first, pleasure 
afterwards. I will go and see dear Giglio this afternoon; and 
now I will drive to the jeweller’s, to look for the necklace and brace- 
lets.” The Princess went up into her own room, and made Bet- 
sinda, her maid, bring out all her dresses; and as for Giglio, they 
forgot him as much as I forget what I had for dinner last Tuesday 
twelvemonth. 


[4] 



HOW KING VALOROSO GOT THE CROWN AND PRINCE 
GIGLIO WENT WITHOUT. 



AFLAGONIA, ten or twenty thousand years ago, 
appears to have been one of those kingdoms where 
the laws of succession were not settled; for when 
King Savio died, leaving his brother regent of the 
kingdom, and guardian of Savio’s orphan infant, 
this unfaithful regent took no sort of regard of the 
late monarch’s will; had himself proclaimed sovereign of Paflagonia 
under the title of King Valoroso XXIV., had a most splendid corona- 
tion, and ordered all the nobles of the kingdom to pay him homage. 
So long as Valoroso gave them plenty of balls at Court, plenty of 
money, and lucrative places, the Paflagonian nobility did not care who 
was king; and as for the people, in those early times, they were equally 
indifferent. The Prince Giglio, by reason of his tender age at his 
royal father’s death, did not feel the loss of his crown and empire. 
As long as he had plenty of toys and sweetmeats, a holiday five times 
a week, and a horse and gun to go out shooting when he grew a 
little older, and, above all, the company of his darling cousin, the 
King’s only child, poor Giglio was perfectly contented; nor did he 

[5] 



envy his uncle the royal robes and sceptre, the great hot, uncom- 
fortable throne of state, and the enormous, cumbersome crown in 
which that monarch appeared, from morning till night. King Val- 
oroso’s portrait has been left to us; and I think you will agree with 
me that he must have been sometimes rather tired of his velvet, and 
his diamonds, and his ermine, and his grandeur. I shouldn’t like 
to sit in that stifling robe with such a thing as that on my head. 

No doubt the Queen must have been lovely in her youth; for 
though she grew rather stout in after life, yet her features, as shown 

[ 6 ] 




in her portrait, are certainly pleasing. If she was fond of flattery, 
scandal, cards, and fine clothes, let us deal gently with her infirmi- 
ties, which, after all, may be no greater than our own. She was kind 
to her nephew; and if she had any scruples of conscience about her 
husband’s taking the young Prince’s crown, consoled herself by 
thinking that the King, though a usurper, was a most respectable 
man, and that at his death Prince Giglio would be restored to his 
throne, and share it with his cousin, whom he loved so fondly. 

The Prime Minister was Glumboso, an old statesman, who 

[7] 



HOW THE MONARCH RULED HIS NATION 


0 




most cheerfully swore fidelity to King Valoroso, and in whose hands 
the monarch left all the affairs of his kingdom. All Valoroso wanted 
was plenty of money, plenty of hunting, plenty of flattery, and as 
little trouble as possible. As long as he had his sport, this monarch 
cared little how his people paid for it; he engaged in some wars 
and of course the Paflagonian newspapers announced that he gained 
prodigious victories; he had statues erected to himself in every city 
of the empire; and of course his pictures placed everywhere, and 
in all the print shops; he was Valoroso the Magnanimous, Valoroso 
the Victorious, Valoroso the Great, and so forth; — for even in 
these early times courtiers and people knew how to flatter. 

This royal pair had one only child, the Princess Angelica, who, 
you may be sure, was a paragon in the courtiers" eyes, in her parents", 
and in her own. It was said she had the longest hair, the largest 
eyes, the slimmest waist, the smallest foot, and the most lovely com- 
plexion of any young lady in the Paflagonian dominions. Her 
accomplishments were announced to be even superior to her beauty; 
and governesses used to shame their idle pupils by telling them what 
Princess Angelica could do. She could play the most difficult 
pieces of music at sight. She could answer any one of MangnaPs 
Questions. She knew every date in the history of Paflagonia, and 
every other country. She knew French, English, Italian, German, 
Spanish, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Cappadocian, Samothracian, yEgean, 
and Crim Tartar. In a word, she was a most accomplished young 
creature ; and her governess and lady-in-waiting was the severe Count- 
ess Gruffanuff. 

Would 5^ou not fancy, from this picture, that Gruffanuff must 
have been a person of the highest birth.? She looks so haughty 

[ 8 ] 


GRUFFANUFF, AND WHAT HER STATION 



that I should have thought her a princess at the very least, with a 
pedigree reaching as far back as the deluge. But this lady was no 
better born than many other ladies who give themselves airs; and 
all sensible people laughed at her absurd pretensions; the fact is 
she had been maid-servant to the Queen when her Majesty was 
only Princess, and her husband had been head footman, but after his 
death or disappearance, of which you shall hear presently, this Mrs. 


Gruffanuff, by flattering, toadying, and wheedling her royal mistress, 
became a favorite with the Queen (who was rather a weak woman), 
and her Majesty gave her a title, and made her nursery governess 
to the Princess. 

And now I must tell you about the Princess' learning and accom- 
plishments, for which she had such a wonderful character. Clever 
Angelica certainly was, but as idle as possible. Play at sight, indeed! 

[9] 






she could play one or two pieces, and pretend that she had never 
seen them Before; she could answer half a dozen Mangnal’s Ques- 
tions; but then you must take care to ask the right ones. As for 
her languages, she had masters in plenty, but I doubt whether she 
knew more than a few phrases in each, for all her pretence; and 
as for her embroidery and her drawing, she showed beautiful speci- 
mens, it is true, but who did them P 

This obliges me to tell the truth, and to do so I must go back 
ever so far, and tell you about the Fairy Blackstick. 


[ 10 ] 



TELLS WHO THE FAIRY BLACKSTICK WAS, AND WHO WERE 
EVER SO MANY GRAND PERSONAGES BESIDES. 



ETWEEN the kingdoms of Paflagonia and Crim 
Tartary, there lived a mysterious personage, who 
was known in those countries as the Fairy Black- 
stick, from the ebony wand or crutch which she 
carried ; on which she rode to the moon sometimes, 
or upon other excursions of business or pleasure, and with which 
she performed her wonders. 

When she was young, and had been first taught the art of con- 
juring, by the necromancer, her father, she was always practising 
her skill, whizzing about from one kingdom to another upon her 
black stick, and conferring her fairy favors upon this Prince or 
that. She had scores of royal godchildren; turned numberless 
wicked people into beasts, birds, millstones, clocks, pumps, boot- 
jacks, umbrellas, or other absurd shapes; and in a word was one 
of the most active and officious of the whole College of fairies. 

But after two or three thousand years of this sport, I suppose 
Blackstick grew tired of it. Or perhaps she thought, “What good 

[II] 


FAIRY ROSES, FAIRY RINGS, 


a 


am I doing by sending this Princess to sleep for a hundred years ? 
by fixing a black pudding on to that booby’s nose ? by causing dia- 
monds and pearls to drop from one little girl’s mouth, and vipers and 
toads from another’s ? I begin to think I do as much harm as good 
by my performances. I might as well shut my incantations up, and 
allow things to take their natural course. 

“There were my two young goddaughters, King Savio’s wife, 
and Duke Padella’s wife; I gave them each a present which was 
to render them charming in the eyes of their husbands, and secure 
the affection of those gentlemen as long as they lived. What good 
did my Rose and my Ring do these two women .? None on earth. 
From having all their whims indulged by their husbands, they became 
capricious,' lazy, ill-humored, absurdly vain, and leered and lang- 
uished, and fancied themselves irresistibly beautiful, when they 
were really quite old and hideous, the ridiculous creatures! They 
used actually to patronize me when I went to pay them a visit: me^ 
the Fairy Blackstick, who knows all the wisdom of the necromancers, 
and who could have turned them into baboons, and all their diamonds 
into strings of onions, by a single wave of my rod!” So she locked 
up her books in her cupboard, declined further magical perform- 
ances, and scarcely used her wand at all except as a cane to walk 
about with. 

So when Duke Padella’s lady had a little son (the Duke was 
at that time only one of the principal noblemen in Grim Tartary), 
Blackstick, although invited to the christening, would not so much 
as attend; but merely sent her compliments and a silver papboat 
for the baby, which was really not worth a couple of guineas. About 
the same time the Queen of Paflagonia presented his Majesty with 

[ 12 ] 


TURN OUT SOMETIMES TROUBLESOME THINGS 


a son and heir; and guns were fired, the capital illuminated, and no 
end of feasts ordained to celebrate the young Prince’s birth. It 
was thought the fairy, who was asked to be his godmother, would 
at least have presented him with an invisible jacket, a flying horse, 
a Fortunatus’ purse, or some other valuable token of her favor; 
but instead, Blackstick went up to the cradle of the child Giglio, 
when everybody was admiring him and complimenting his royal 
papa and mamma, and said: ‘‘My poor child, the best thing I can 
send you is a little misjortune” and this was all she would utter, 
to the disgust of Giglio’s parents, who died very soon after, when 
Giglio’s uncle took the throne, as we read in Chapter 1. 

In like manner, when Cavolfiore, King of Crim Tartary, had 
a christening of his only child, Rosalba, the Fairy Blackstick, who 
had been invited, was not more gracious than in Prince Giglio’s 
case. Whilst everybody was expatiating over the beauty of the 
darling child, and congratulating its parents, the Fairy Blackstick 
looked very sadly at the baby and its mother, and said: “My good 
woman (for the Fairy was very familiar, and no more minded a Queen 
than a washerwoman) — my good woman, these people who are 
following you will be the first to turn against you; and, as for this 
little lady, the best thing I can wish her is a little misfortune” So 
she touched Rosalba with her black wand, looked severely at the 
courtiers, motioned the Queen an adieu with her hand, and sailed 
slowly up into the air out of the window. 

When she was gone, the Court people, who had been awed and 
silent in her presence, began to speak. “What an odious Fairy 
she is [they said] — a pretty Fairy, indeed! Why, she went to the 
King of Paflagonia’s christening, and pretended to do all sorts of 

[13] 


FLATTERING COURTIERS MAKE POOR MARTYRS 


things for that family; and what has happened — the Prince, her 
godson, has been turned off his throne by his uncle. Would we 
allow our sweet Princess to be deprived of her rights by any enemy ? 
Never, never, never, never!’’ 

And they all shouted in a chorus, “Never, never, never, never!” 

Now, I should like to know, and how did these fine courtiers 
show their fidelity? One of King Cavolfiore’s vassals, the Duke 
Padella just mentioned, rebelled against the King, who went out 
to chastise his rebellious subject. “Any one rebel against our 
beloved and august Monarch!” cried the courtiers; “any one resist 
him? He is invincible, irresistible. He will bring home Padella a 
prisoner; and tie him to a donkey’s tail, and drive him round the town, 
saying: ‘This is the way the Great Cavolfiore treats rebels.’ ” 

The King went forth to vanquish Padella; and the poor Queen, 
who was a very timid, anxious creature, grew so frightened and ill, 
that I am sorry to say she died, leaving injunctions with her ladies 
to take care of the dear little Rosalba. Of course they said they 
would. Of course they vowed they would die rather than any harm 
should happen to the Princess. At first the Crim Tartar Court 
Journal stated that the King was obtaining great victories over 
the audacious rebel; then it was announced that the troops of the 
infamous Padella were in flight; then it was said that the royal 
army would soon come up with the enemy; and then — then the 
news came that King Cavolfiore was vanquished and slain by His 
Majesty, King Padella the First! 

At this news, half the courtiers ran off to pay their duty to the 
conquering chief, and the other half ran away, laying hands on all 
the best articles in the palace, and poor little Rosalba was left there 

[14] 



quite alone — quite alone; and she toddled from one room to an- 
other, crying: “Countess! Duchess! [only she said ‘Tountess, 
Duttess,’ not being able to speak plain] bring me my mutton sop; 
my Royal Highness hungry! Tountess, Duttess!” And she went 
from the private apartments into the throne-room and nobody was 

[15] 




WHO WAS KING OF THE GRIM TARTARS? 

E g 

there; and thence into the ball-room, and nobody was there; and 
thence into the pages’ room, and nobody was there; and she toddled 
down the great staircase into the hall, and nobody was there; and 
the door was open, and she went into the court, and into the garden, 
and thence into the wilderness, and thence into the forest where 
the wild beasts live, and was never heard of any more! 

A piece of her torn mantle and one of her shoes were found in 
the wood in the mouths of two lioness’ cubs, whom King Padella 
and a royal hunting party shot — for he was king now, and reigned 
over Grim Tartary. “So the poor little Princess is done for,” said 
he; “well, what’s done can’t be helped. Gentlemen, let us go to 
luncheon!” And one of the courtiers took up the shoe and put 
it in his pocket. And there was an end of Rosalba. 


[i6] 



HOW BLACKSTICK WAS NOT ASKED TO THE PRINCESS 

angelica’s christening. 



HEN the Princess Angelica was born, her parents not 
only did not ask the Fairy Blackstick to the chris- 
tening party, but gave orders to their porter abso- 
lutely to refuse her if she called. This porter’s name 
was Gruffanuff, and he had been selected for the 
post by their Royal Highnesses because he was a 
very tall, fierce man, who could say “Not at home,” to a tradesman 
or an unwelcome visitor, with a rudeness which frightened most 
such persons away. He was the husband of that Countess whose 
picture we have just seen, and as long as they were together they 
quarrelled from morning till night. Now this fellow tried his 
rudeness once too often, as you shall hear. For the Fairy Black- 
stick coming to call upon the Prince and Princess, who were actually 
sitting at the open drawing-rcKjm window, Gruffanuff not only 
denied them, but made the most odious vulgar sign as he was going 
to slam the door in the Fairy’s face! “Getaway, old Blackstick!” 
said he. “I tell you. Master and Missis ain’t at home to you;” 
and he was, as we have said, going to slam the door. 

[17] 





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But the Fairy, with her wand, prevented the door being shut; 
and Gruffanuff came out again in a fury, swearing in a most abom- 
inable way, and asking the Fairy “whether she thought he was 
p-going to stay at that there door hall day?” 


[i8] 





“You are going to stay at that 

door all day and all night, and for 

many a long year,’’ the Fairy said, very majestically; and, 

Gruffanuff, coming out of the door, straddling before it with his great 
calves, burst out laughing, and cried: “Ha, ha, ha! this is a good 
un ! Ha — ah — what’s this ? Let me down — O — o — H’m 1 ” 
and then he was dumb! 

For, as the Fairy waved her wand over him, he felt himself ris- 
ing off the ground, and fluttered up against the door, and then, as 
if a screw ran into his stomach, he felt a dreadful pain there, and 
was pinned to the door; and then his arms flew up over his head; 
and his legs, after writhing about wildly, twisted under his body; 
and he felt cold, cold, growing over him, as if he was turning into 
metal, and he said: “O — o — H’m!” and could say no more, 
because he was dumb. 

He was turned into metal! He was from being brazen, brass! 
He was neither more nor less than a knocker! And there he was, 
nailed to the door in the blazing summer day, till he burned almost 
red-hot; and there he was, nailed to the door all the bitter winter 
nights, till his brass nose was dropping with icicles. And the post- 
man came and rapped at him, and the vulgarest boy with a letter 
came and hit him up against the door. And the King and Queen 
(Princess and Prince they were then), coming home from a walk 
that evening, the King said: “Hullo, my dear! you have had a new 
knocker put on the door. Why, it’s rather like our porter in the 
face ! What has become of that boozy vagabond .? ” And the 
housemaid came and scrubbed his nose with sandpaper. And once, 
when the Princess Angelica’s little sister was born, he was tied up 
in an old kid glove; and, another night, some larking young men 
tried to wrench him off, and put him to the most excruciating agony 

[ 19] 


WARNING TAKE BY GRUFFANUFF , 

1 ! 

with a turnscrew. And then the Queen had a fancy to have the 
color of the door altered; and the painters dabbed him over the 
mouth and eyes, and nearly choked him, as they painted him pea- 
green. I warrant he had leisure to repent of having been rude to 
the Fairy Blackstick. 

As for his wife, she did not miss him; as he was always notoriously 
quarrelling with his wife, and in debt to the tradesmen, it was supposed 
he had run away from all these evils and emigrated to Australia or 
America. And when the Prince and Princess chose to become King 
and Queen, they left their old house, and nobody thought of the por- 
ter any more. 


[20] 



HOW PRINCESS ANGELICA TOOK A LITTLE MAID. 

NE day, when the Princess Angelica was quite a 
little girl, she was walking in the garden of the 
palace, with Mrs. Gruffanuff, the governess, holding 
a parasol over her head to keep her sweet com- 
plexion from the freckles, and Angelica was carrying 
a bun to feed the swans and ducks in the royal pond. 

They had not reached the duck-pond, when there came toddling 
up to them such a funny little girl! She had a great quantity of hair 
blowing about her chubby little cheeks, and looked as if she had 
not been washed or combed for ever so long. She wore a ragged 
bit of a cloak, and had only one shoe on. 

“You little wretch, who let you in here.?” asked Gruffanuff. 

“Dive me dat bun,” said the little girl, “me vely hungy.” 

“Hungry! what is that?” asked Princess Angelica, and gave 
the child the bun. 

“Oh, Princess!” says Gruffanuff, “how good, how kind, how 
truly angelical you are! See, your Majesties,” she said to the King 
and Queen, who now came up, along with their nephew. Prince 
Giglio, “how kind the Princess is! She met this little dirty wretch 

[ 21 ] 





in the garden — I can’t tell how she came in here, or why the guards 
did not shoot her dead at the gate! — and the dear darling of a Prin- 
cess has given her the whole of her bun!” 

“ I didn’t want it,” said Angelica. 

‘‘But you are a darling little angel all the same,” says the governess. 

“Yes; I know I am,” said Angelica. “Dirty little girl, don’t 
you know I am very pretty?” Indeed, she had on the finest of 
little dresses and hats, and as her hair was carefully curled, she 
looked very well. 

“Oh, pooty, pooty!” says the little girl, capering about, laugh- 
ing, and dancing, and munching her bun; and as she ate it she 
began to sing, “Oh what fun to have a plum bun! how I wis it 
never was done!” At which, and her funny accent, Angelica, Gig- 
lio, and the King and Queen began to laugh very merrily. 

“I can dance as well as sing,” says the little girl. “I can dance, 

[ 22 ] 


SHE SHALL BE MY LITTLE MAID 


and I can sing, and I can do all sort of ting/’ And she ran to a 
flower-bed, and pulling a few polyanthuses, rhododendrons, and 
other flowers, made herself a little wreath, and danced before the 
King and Queen so drolly and prettily that everybody was delighted. 

‘‘Who was your mother — who were your relations, little girl?” 
said the Queen. 

The little girl said: “Little lion was my brudder; great big 
lioness my mudder; neber heard of any udder.” And she capered 
away on her one shoe, and everybody was exceedingly diverted. 

So Angelica said to the Queen: “Mamma, my parrot flew away 
out of its cage, and I don’t care any more for any of my toys, and 
I think this funny little dirty child will amuse me. I will take her 
home and give her some of my old frocks.” 

“Oh, the generous darling!” says GruflFanuff. 

“Which I have worn ever so many times, and am quite tired 
of,” Angelica went on; “and she shall be my little maid. Will 
you go home with me, little dirty girl ? ” 

The child clapped her hands, and said: “Go home with you 
— yes! You pooty Princess! — Have a nice dinner and wear a 
new dress!” 

And they all laughed again, and took home the child to the 
palace, where, when she was washed and combed, and had one of 
the Princess’ frocks given to her, she looked as handsome as An- 
gelica, almost. Not that Angelica ever thought so; for this little 
lady never imagined that anybody in the world could be as pretty, 
as good, or as clever as herself. In order that the little girl should 
not become too proud and conceited, Mrs. Gruffanuff took her 
old ragged mantle and one shoe, and put them into a glass box, 

[23] 




OF THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID, 


[ 


with a card laid upon them, upon which was written: '‘These were 
the old clothes in which little Betsinda was found when the great 
goodness and admirable kindness of her Royal Highness, the Prin- 
cess Angelica, received this little outcast/’ And the date was added, 
and the box locked up. 

For a while little Betsinda was a great favorite with the Princess, 
and she danced, and sang, and made her little rhymes, to amuse her 
mistress. But then the Princess got a monkey, and afterwards a 
little dog, and afterwards a doll, and did not care for Betsinda any 
more, who became very melancholy and quiet, and sang no more 
funny songs, because nobody cared to hear her. And then, as she 
grew older, she was made a little lady’s-maid to the Princess; and 
though she had no wages, she worked and mended and put An- 
gelica’s hair in papers, and was never cross when scolded, and was 
always eager to please her mistress, and was always up early and 
to bed late, and at hand when wanted, and in fact became a perfect 
little maid. So the two girls grew up, and when the Princess came 
out, Betsinda was never tired of waiting on her; and made her 
dresses better than the best milliner, and was useful in a hundred 
ways. Whilst the Princess was having her masters, Betsinda would 
sit and watch them; and in this way she picked up a great deal of 
learning; for she was always awake, though her mistress was not, 
and listened to the wise professors when Angelica was yawning, 
or thinking of the next ball. And when the dancing-master came, 
Betsinda learned along with Angelica; and when the music-master 
came, she watched him, and practised the Princess’ pieces when 
Angelica was away at balls and parties; and when the drawing- 
master came, she took note of all he said and did; and the same 

[24] 


WHILST ONE WORKED THE OTHER PLAYED 


with French, Italian, and all other languages — she learned them 
from the teacher who came to Angelica. When the Princess was 
going out of an evening she would say: “My good Betsinda, you 
may as well finish what I have begun.’’ “Yes, Miss,” Betsinda 
would say, and sit down very cheerful, not to finish what Angelica 
begun, but to do it. 

For instance, the Princess would begin a head of a warrior, let 
us say, and when it was begun it was something like this. 



somer still if possible), and the Princess put her name to the draw- 
ing; and the Court and King and Queen, and above all poor Giglio, 
admired the picture of all things, and said: “Was there ever a genius 
like Angelica?” So, I am sorry to say, was it with the Princess’ 
embroidery and other accomplishments; and Angelica actually 
believed that she did these things herself, and received all the flat- 
tery of the Court as if every word of it was true. Thus she began 



HER ROYAL HIGHNESS NOT A WONDER 


0 


to think that there was no young woman in all the world equal to 
herself, and that there was no young man good enough for her. 
As for Betsinda, as she heard none of these praises, she was not 
puffed up by them, and being a most grateful, good-natured girl, 
she was only too anxious to do everything which might give her 
mistress pleasure. Now you begin to perceive that Angelica had 
faults of her own, and was by no means such a wonder of wonders 
as people represented her Royal Highness to be. 



HOW PRINCE GIGLIO BEHAVED HIMSELF. 



ND now let us speak about Prince Giglio, the neph- 
ew of the reigning monarch of Paflagonia. It has 
already been stated, in page 5, that as long as he had 
a smart coat to wear, a good horse to ride, and money 
in his pocket, or rather to take out of his pocket, for 
he was very good-natured, my young Prince did not 
care for the loss of his crown and sceptre, being a thoughtless youth, not 
much inclined to politics or any kind of learning. So his tutor had 
a sinecure. Giglio would not learn classics or mathematics, and the 
Lord Chancellor of Paflagonia, Squaretoso, pulled a very long 
face because the Prince could not be got to study the Paflagonian 
laws and constitution; but on the other hand, the King’s game- 
keepers and huntsmen found the Prince an apt pupil; the dancing- 
master pronounced that he was a most elegant and assiduous 
scholar; the First Lord of the Billiard Table gave the most flattering 
reports of the Prince’s skill; so did the Groom of the Tennis Court, 
and as for the Captain of the Guard and Fencing Master, the val- 
iant and veteran Count Kutasoff Hedzoff, he avowed that since 
he ran the General of Crim Tartary, the dreadful Grumbuskin, 

[27] 



through the body, he never encountered so expert a swordsman as 
Prince Giglio. 

I hope you do not imagine that there was any impropriety in the 
Prince and Princess walking together in the palace garden, and 
because Giglio kissed Angelica’s hand in a polite manner. In the 
first place they are cousins; next, the Queen is walking in the garden 
too (you cannot see her for she happens to be behind that tree), 
and her Majesty always wished that Angelica and Giglio should 
marry: so did Giglio: so did Angelica sometimes, for she thought 
her cousin very handsome, brave, and good-natured; but then 
you know she was so clever and knew so many things, and poor 
Giglio knew nothing, and had no conversation. When they looked 
at the stars, what did Giglio know of the heavenly bodies .? Once, 

[28] 



when on a sweet night in a balcony vvhere they were standing, An- 
gelica said; “There is the Bear.” “Where?” says Giglio; “don’t 
be afraid, Angelica! if a dozen bears come, I will kill them rather 
than they shall hurt you.” “Oh, you silly creature!” says she, 
“you are very good, but you are not very wise.” When they looked 
at the flowers, Giglio was utterly unacquainted with botany, and had 
never heard of Linnaeus. When the butterflies passed Giglio knew 
nothing about them, being as ignorant of entomology as I am of 
algebra. So you see, Angelica, though she liked Giglio pretty well, 
despised him on account of his ignorance. I think she probably 
valued her own learning rather too much; but to think too well of 
one’s self is the fault of people of all ages and both sexes. Finally, 
when nobody else was there, Angelica liked her cousin well enough. 

King Valoroso was very delicate in health, and withal so fond 
of good dinners (which were prepared for him by his French cook, 
Marmitonio), that it was supposed he could not live long. Now the 
idea of anything happening to the King struck the artful Prime 
Minister and the designing old lady-in-waiting with terror. For, 
thought Glumboso and the Countess, “when Prince Giglio marries 
his cousin and comes to the throne, what a pretty position we shall 
be in, whom he dislikes, and who have always been unkind to him. 
We shall lose our places in a trice; Gruffanuff will have to give up 
all the jewels, laces, snuff-boxes, rings, and watches which belonged 
to the Queen, Giglio’s mother; and Glumboso will be forced to 
refund two hundred and seventeen thousand millions nine hundred 
and eighty-seven thousand four hundred and thirty-nine pounds, 
thirteen shillings, and sixpence halfpenny, money left to Prince 
Giglio by his poor dead father.” So the Lady of Honor and the 

[29] 


MUCH I FEAR WHEN HEARTS ARE ILL 



Prime Minister hated Giglio because they had done him a wrong; 
and these unprincipled people invented a hundred cruel stories 
about poor Giglio, in order to influence the King, Queen, and Prin- 
cess against him: how he was so ignorant that he could not spell 
the commonest words, and actually wrote Valoroso Valloroso, and 
spelt Angelica with two Ts; how he drank a great deal too much 
wine at dinner, and was always idling in the stables with the grooms; 
how he owed ever so much money at the pastry-cook’s and the 



haberdasher’s; how he used to go to sleep at church; how he was 
fond of playing cards with the pages. So did the Queen like play- 
ing cards; so did the King go to sleep at church, and eat and drink 
too much; and if Giglio owed a trifle for tarts, who owed him two 
hundred and seventeen thousand millions nine hundred and eighty- 
seven thousand four hundred and thirty-nine pounds, thirteen shil- 
lings, and sixpence halfpenny, I should like to know ? Detractors 
and tale-bearers (in my humble opinion) had better look at home. 
All this backbiting and slandering had effect upon Princess An- 

[30] 



SMALL’S THE GOOD OF DOCTOR’S PILL 


gelica, who began to look coldly on her cousin, then to laugh at 
him and scorn him for being so stupid, then to sneer at him for 
having vulgar associates; and at court balls, dinners, and so forth, 
to treat him so unkindly that poor Giglio became quite ill, took 
to his bed, and sent for the doctor. 

His Majesty King Valoroso, as we have seen, had his own rea- 
sons for disliking his nephew; and as for those innocent readers 
who ask why ? I beg (with the permission of their dear parents) to 
refer them to Shakespeare’s pages, where they will read why King 
John disliked Prince Arthur. With the Queen, his royal but weak- 
minded aunt, when Giglio was out of sight he was out of mind. 
While she had her whist and her evening parties, she cared for little 
else. 

I dare say two villains^ who shall be nameless, wished Doctor 
Pildrafto, the Court Physician, had killed Giglio right out, but he 
only bled and physicked him so severely that the Prince was kept 
to his room for several months and grew as thin as a post. 

Whilst he was lying sick in this way, there came to the Court 
of Paflagonia a famous painter, whose name was Tomaso Lorenzo, 
and who was Painter in Ordinary to the King of Crim Tartary, 
Paflagonia’s neighbor. Tomaso Lorenzo painted all the Court, 
who were delighted with his work: for even Countess Gruffanuff 
looked young and Glumboso good-humored in his pictures. ‘‘He 
flatters very much,” some people said. “Nay!” says Princess 
Angelica, “I am above flattery, and I think he did not make my 
picture handsome enough. I can’t bear to hear a man of genius 
unjustly cried down, and I hope my dear papa will make Lorenzo 
a knight of his Order of the Cucumber.” 

[31] 


] 


O YOU PAINTER, HOW YOU FLATTER, 


( 


The Princess Angelica, although the courtiers vowed her Royal 
Highness could draw so beautifully that the idea of her taking lessons 
was absurd, yet chose to have Lorenzo for a teacher, and it was 
wonderful, as long as she painted in his studio, what beautiful pic- 
tures she made! Some of the performances were engraved for the 
Book of Beauty; others were sold for enormous sums at Charity 
Bazaars. She wrote the signatures under the drawings, no doubt, 
but I think I know who did the pictures — this artful painter, who 
had come with other designs on Angelica than merely to teach her 
to draw. 

One day, Lorenzo showed the Princess a portrait of a young 
man in armor, with fair hair and the loveliest blue eyes, and an 
expression at once melancholy and interesting. 

“ Dear Signor Lorenzo, who is this .? ’’ asked the Princess. “ I 
never saw any one so handsome,” says Countess Gruffanuff (the 
old humbug). 

“That,” said the painter, “that, madam, is the portrait of my 
august young master, his Royal Highness Bulbo, Crown Prince of 
Crim Tartary, Duke of Acroceraunia, Marquis of Poluphloisboio, 
and Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Pumpkin. That is 
the Order of the Pumpkin glittering on his manly breast, and re- 
ceived by his Royal Highness from his august father, his Majesty 
King Padella L, for his gallantry at the battle of Rimbombamento, 
when he slew with his own princely hand the King of Ograria and 
two hundred and eleven giants of the two hundred and eighteen 
who formed the King’s body-guard. The remainder were destroyed 
by the brave Crim Tartar army after an obstinate combat, in which 
the Crim Tartars suffered severely.” 

[32] 


SURE HE MUST BE LAUGHING AT HER 


What a Prince ! thought Angelica : so brave — so calm-looking 
— so young — what a hero! 

“He is as accomplished as he is brave/’ continued the Court 
Painter. “ He knows all languages perfectly, sings deliciously, 
plays every instrument, composes operas which have been acted a 
thousand nights running at the Imperial Theatre of Crim Tartary, 
and danced in a ballet there before the King 




and Queen, in which he looked so beautiful, 
that his cousin, the lovely daughter of the 
King of Circassia, died for love of him.” 

“Why did he not marry the poor Princess?” asked Angelica, 
with a sigh. 

“Because they were first cousins y madam, and the clergy forbid 


these unions,” said the Painter. “And, besides, che young Prince 
had given his royal heart elsewhere” 

“And to whom?” asked her Royal Highness. 

“I am not at liberty to mention the Princess’ name,” answered 
the Painter. 

“ But you may tell me the first letter of it,” gasped out the Prin- 


cess. 

“That your Royal Highness is at liberty to guess,” says Lorenzo. 
“ Does it begin with a Z ? ” asked Angelica. 

The Painter said it wasn’t a Z; then she tried a Y; then an X; 
then a W, and went so backwards through almost the whole alphabet 

[33] 



When she came to D, and it wasn’t D, she grew very much ex- 
cited; when she came to C,and it wasn’t C,she was still more nervous; 
when she came to B, and it wasn*t B, “O dearest Gruffanuff,” she 
said, ‘^lend me your smelling bottle!” and, hiding her head in the 
Countess’ shoulder, she faintly whispered: “Ah, Signor, can it be 
A?” 

“It was A; and though I may not, by my Royal Master’s orders,, 
tell your Royal Highness the Princess’ name, whom he fondly, 
madly, devotedly, rapturously loves, I may show you her portrait,’^ 
says this sly boots; and leading the Princess up to a gilt frame he 
drew a curtain which was before it. 

O goodness, the frame contained a looking-glass! and An- 
gelica saw her own face! 



[34] 



HOW GIGILO AND ANGELICA HAD A QUARREL. 



HE Court Painter of his Majesty the King of Crim 
Tartary returned to that monarch’s dominions, carry- 
ing away a number of sketches which he had made 
in the Paflagonian capital (you know, of course,, 
my dears, that the name of the capital is Blom- 
bodinga) ; but the most charming of all his pieces^ 
was a portrait of the Princess Angelica, which all the Crim Tar- 
tar nobles came to see. With this work the King was so delighted, 
that he decorated the Painter with his Order of the Pumpkin (sixth 
class), and the artist became Sir Tomaso Lorenzo, K.P., thenceforth. 

King Valoroso also sent Sir Tomaso his Order of the Cucumber,, 
besides a handsome order for money, for he painted the King, Queen,, 
and principal nobility while at Blombodinga, and became all the 
fashion, to the perfect rage of all the artists in Paflagonia, where the 
King used to point to the portrait of Prince Bulbo, which Sir Tomaso 
had left behind him, and say: “Which among you can paint a pic- 
ture like that?” 

It hung in the royal parlor over the royal sideboard, and Prin- 
cess Angelica could always look at it as she sat making the tea. Each 

[35] 


OTHER GIRLS, THE AUTHOR GUESSES, 


fl 


day it seemed to grow handsomer and handsomer, and the Princess 
grew so fond of looking at it, that she would often spill the tea over 
the cloth, at which her father and mother would wink and wag 
their heads, and say to each others: “Aha! we see how things are 
going.” 

In the meanwhile poor Giglio lay upstairs very sick in his cham- 
ber, though he took all the doctor’s horrible medicines like a good 
young lad ; as I hope you do, my dears, when you are ill and mamma 
sends for the medical man. And the only person who visited Gig- 
lio (besides his friend, the captain of the guard, who was almost 
always busy or on parade) was little Betsinda, the housemaid, who 
used to do his bedroom and sitting-room out, bring him his gruel, 
and warm his bed. 

When the little housemaid came to him in the morning and 
evening. Prince Giglio used to say: “Betsinda! Betsinda! how is 
the Princess Angelica.?” 

And Betsinda used to answer: “The Princess is very well, thank 
you, my Lord.” And Giglio would heave a sigh, and think: If 
Angelica were sick I am sure / should not be very well. 

Then Giglio would say: “Betsinda, has the Princess Angelica 
asked for me to-day,?” And Betsinda would answer: “No, my 
Lord, not to-day;” or, “She was very busy practising the piano 
when I saw her;” or, “She was writing invitations for an evening 
party, and did not speak to me;” or make some excuse or other not 
strictly consonant with truth; for Betsinda was such a good-natured 
creature, that she strove to do everything to prevent annoyance to 
Prince Giglio, and even brought him up roast chicken and jellies 
from the kitchen (when the doctor allowed them, and Giglio was 

[36] 


LOVE TO FLIRT BESIDES PRINCESSES 


getting better), saying “that the Princess had made the jelly, or 
the bread-sauce, with her own hands, on purpose for Giglio/’ 

When Giglio heard of this he took heart and began to mend 
immediately; and gobbled up all the jelly, and picked the last bone 
of the chicken — drumsticks, merry-thought, sides’-bones, back, 
pope’s-nose, and all — thanking his dear Angelica; and he felt 
so much better the next day, that he dressed and went downstairs, 
where, whom should he meet but Angelica going into the drawing- 
room. All the covers were off the chairs, the chandeliers taken 
out of the bags, the damask curtains uncovered, the work and things 
carried away, and the handsomest albums on the tables. Angelica 
had her hair in papers; in a word, it was evident there was going to 
be a party. 

“Heavens, Giglio!’’ cries Angelica; “yow here in such a dress! 
What a figure you are!” 

“Yes, dear Angelica, I am come downstairs, and feel so well 
to-day, thanks to the fowl and the jelly” 

“What do I know about fowls and jellies, that you allude to them 
in that rude way .? ” says Angelica. 

“Why, didn’t — didn’t you send them, Angelica dear.?” says 
Giglio. 

“I send them indeed! Angelica dear! No, Giglio dear,” says 
she, mocking him, “I was engaged in getting the rooms ready for 
his Royal Highness the Prince of Grim Tartary, who is coming to 
pay my papa’s Court a visit.” 

“The — Prince — of — Grim — Tartary!” Giglio said, aghast. 

“Yes, the Prince of Grim Tartary,” says Angelica, mocking 
him. “I dare say you never heard of such a country. What did 

[37] 


OTHER FOLKS, AS WELL AS THEY, 




you ever hear of? You don’t know whether Crim Tartary is on 
the Red Sea or on the Black Sea, I dare say.” 

“Yes, I do; it’s on the Red Sea,” says Giglio; at which the 
Princess burst out laughing at him, and said: “Oh, you ninny! 
You are so ignorant, you are really not fit for society! You know 
nothing but about horses and dogs; and are only fit to dine with 
my Royal Father’s heaviest dragoons. Don’t look so surprised at 
me, sir; go and put your best clothes on to receive the Prince, and 
let me get the drawing-room ready.” 

Giglio said: “O Angelica, Angelica, I didn’t think this of you. 
This wasn’t your language to me when you gave me this ring, and 
I gave you mine in the garden, and you gave me that k — ” 

But what k was we never shall know, for Angelica, in a rage, 
cried: “Get out, you saucy, rude creature! How dare you remind 
me of your rudeness ? As for your little trumpery twopenny ring, 
there, sir, there!” And she flung it out of the window. 

“ It was my mother’s marriage ring,” cried Giglio. 

“/ don’t care whose marriage ring it was,” cries Angelica. “ Mar- 
ry the person who picks it up if she’s a woman, you shan’t marry 
me. And give me back my ring. I’ve no patience with people 
who boast about the things they give away! I know who’ll give 
me much finer things than you ever gave me. A beggarly ring 
indeed, not worth five shillings!” 

Now Angelica little knew that the ring which Giglio had given 
her was a fairy ring: if a man wore it, it made all the women in love 
with him; if a woman, all the gentlemen. The Queen, Giglio’s 
mother, quite an ordinary-looking person, was admired immensely 
while she wore this ring, and her husband was frantic when she 

[38] 


\ 


BLINDLY FLING GOOD LUCK AWAY 


[ 

was ill. But when she called her little Giglio to her, and put the 
ring on his finger, King Savio did not seem to care for his wife so 
much any more, but transferred all his love to little Giglio. So did 
everybody love him as long as he had the ring, but when, as quite 
a child, he gave it to Angelica, people began to love and admire her; 
and Giglio, as the saying is, played only second fiddle. 

“Yes,” says Angelica, going on in her foolish, ungrateful way, 
“/ know who’ll give me much finer things than your beggarly little 
pearl nonsense.” 

“Very good, miss! You may take back your ring, tool” says 
Giglio, his eyes flashing fire at her, and then, as if his eyes had been 
suddenly opened, he cried out: “Ha, what does this mean? Is 
this the woman I have been in love with all my life ? Have I been 
such a ninny as to throw away my regard upon you? Why — 
actually — yes — you are a little crooked I ” 

“Oh, you wretch!” cries Angelica. 

“And, upon my conscience, you — you squint a little.” 

“E!” cries Angelica. 

“And your hair is red — and you are marked with small-pox 
— and what ? you have three false teeth — and one leg shorter 
than the other!” 

“You brute, you brute, you!” Angelica screamed out; and as 
she seized the ring with one hand, she dealt Giglio one, two, three, 
smacks on the face, and would have pulled the hair off his head had 
he not started laughing, and crying: 

“O dear me, Angelica, don’t pull out my hair, it hurts! You 
might remove a great deal of your own, as I perceive, without scis- 
sors or pulling at all. O, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha! he, he, he!” 

[39] 



And he nearly choked himself with laughing, and she with rage, 
when, with a low bow, and dressed in his Court habit. Count Gam- 
babella, the first lord-in-waiting, entered and said: ‘‘Royal High- 
nesses! Their Majesties expect you in the Pink Throne-room, 
where they await the arrival of the Prince of Crim Tartary.” 


[40] 



HOW GRUFFANUFF PICKED THE FAIRY RING UP, AND PRINCE 
BULBO CAME TO COURT. 



,RINCE BULBO’S arrival had set all the Court in a 
flutter: everybody was ordered to put his or her 
best clothes on: the footmen had their gala-liveries; 
the Lord Chancellor his new wig; the Guards their 
last new tunics; and Countess Gruff anuff you may 
be sure was glad of an opportunity of decorating 
her old person with her finest things. She was walking through 
the court of the Palace on the way to wait upon their Majesties, 
when she spied something glittering on the pavement, and bade 
the boy in buttons who was holding up her train, to go and pick 
up the article shining yonder. He was an ugly little wretch, in 
some of the late groom-porter’s old clothes cut down, and much too 
tight for him ; and yet, when he had taken up the ring (as it turned 
out to be), and was carrying it to his mistress, she thought he looked 
like a little cupid. He gave the ring to her; it was a trumpery little 
thing enough, but too small for any of her old knuckles, so she put it 
into her pocket. 


[41] 


FLOURISH TRUMPETS, RATTLE DRUMS, 




c 


“O mum!” says the boy, looking at her, “how, how beyoutiful 
you do look, mum, to-day, mum!” 

“And you, too, Jacky,” she was going to say; but, — no, he 
was no longer good-looking at all — but only the carroty-haired 
little Jacky of the morning. However, praise is welcome from 
the ugliest of men or boys, and Gruffanuff, bidding the boy hold up 
her train, walked on in high good-humor. The Guards saluted 
her with peculiar respect. Captain Hedzoff, in the anteroom, said: 
“My dear madam, you look like an angel to-day.” And so, bowing 
and smirking, Gruffanuff went in and took her place behind her 
Royal Master and Mistress, who were in the throne-room awaiting 
the Prince of Crim Tartary. Princess Angelica sat at their feet, 
and behind the King^s chair stood Prince Giglio, looking very savage. 

The Prince of Crim Tartary made his appearance, attended by 
Baron Sleibootz, his chamberlain, and followed by a black page, 
carrying the most beautiful crown you ever saw! He was dressed 
in his travelling costume, and his hair, as you see, was a little in 
disorder. “I have ridden three hundred miles since breakfast,” 
said he, “so eager was I to behold the Prin — the Court and august 
family of Paflagonia, and I could not wait one minute before ap- 
pearing in your Majesties’ presences.” 

Giglio, from behind the throne, burst out into a roar of contemp- 
tuous laughter; but all the Royal party, in fact, were so flurried 
that they did not hear this little outbreak. “Your R. H. is welcome 
in any dress,” says the King. “Glumboso, a chair for his Royal 
Highness.” 

“Any dress his Royal Highness wears, is a Court dress,” says 
Princess Angelica, smiling graciously. 

[42] 


ROYAL BULBO THIS WAY COMES 


‘^Ah! but you should see my other clothes/^ said the Prince. 

I should have had them on, but that stupid carrier has not brought 
them. Who’s that laughing .? ” 

It was Giglio laughing. “I was laughing,” he said, “because 
you said just now that you were in such a hurry to see the Princess, 
that you could not wait to change your dress; and now you say you 
come in those clothes because you have no others.” 

“And who are you?” says Prince Bulbo, very fiercely. 

“My father was King of this country, and I am his only son, 
Prince!” replies Giglio, with equal haughtiness. 

“Ha!” said the King and Glumboso, looking very flurried; but 
the former, collecting himself, said: “Dear Prince Bulbo, I forgot 
to introduce to your Royal Highness my dear nephew, his Royal 
Highness Prince Giglio! Know each other! Embrace each other! 
Giglio, give his Royal Highness your hand!” and Giglio, giving his 
hand, squeezed poor Bulbo’s until the tears ran out of his eyes. 
Glumboso now brought a chair for the royal visitor, and placed 
it on the platform on which the King, Queen, and Prince were seated ; 
but the chair was on the edge of the platform, and as Bulbo sat 
down, it toppled over, and he with it, rolling over and over, and 
bellowing like a bull. Giglio roared still louder at this disaster, 
but it was with laughter: so did all the Court when Prince Bulbo 
got up, for though when he entered the room he appeared not very 
ridiculous, as he stood up from his fall for a moment, he looked 
so exceedingly plain and foolish, that nobody could help laughing 
at him. When he had entered the room, he was observed to carry 
a rose in his hand, which fell out as he tumbled. 

“My rose! my rose!” cried Bulbo, and his chamberlain dashed 

[43] 


GIGLIO, JEALOUS OF THE GRIM 


forwards and picked it up, and gave it to the Prince, who put it in 
his waistcoat. Then people wondered why they had laughed, there 
was nothing particularly ridiculous in him. He was rather short, 
rather stout, rather red-haired, but in fine for a prince not so bad. 

So they sat and talked, the royal personages together, the Grim 
Tartar officers with those of Paflagonia — Giglio very comfortable 
with Gruffanuff behind the throne. He looked at her with such ten- 
der eyes, that her heart was all in a flutter. “Oh, dear Prince,” 
she said, “how could you speak so haughtily in presence of their 
Majesties .? I protest I thought I should have fainted.” 

“I should have caught you in my arms,” said Giglio, looking 
raptures. 

“Why were you so cruel to Prince Bulbo, dear Prince.?” says 
Gruff. 

“Because I hate him,” says Gil. 

“You are jealous of him, and still love poor Angelica,” cries 
Gruffanuff, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. 

“I did, but I love her no more!” Giglio cried. “I despise her! 
Were she heiress to twenty thousand thrones, I would despise her 
and scor^ her. But why speak of thrones ? I have lost mine. I 
am too weak to recover it — I am alone, and have no friend.” 

“Oh, say not so, dear Prince,” says Gruffanuff. 

“Besides,” says he, “I am so happy here behind the throne that 
I would not change my place, no, not for the throne of the world!” 

“What are you two people chattering about there.?” says the 
Queen, who was rather good-natured, though not overburthened 
with wisdom. “It is time to dress for dinner. Giglio, show Prince 
Bulbo to his room. Prince, if your clothes have not come, we shall 

[44] 


TARTAR PRINCE AND LAUGHS AT HIM 


be very happy to see you as you are.” But when Prince Bulbo 
got to his bedroom, his luggage was there and unpacked; and the 
hairdresser coming in, cut and curled him entirely to his own satis- 
faction; and when the dinner-bell rang, the royal company had 
not to wait above five-and-twenty minutes until Bulbo appeared, 
during which time the Ring, who could not bear to wait, grew as 
sulky as possible. As for Giglio, he never left Madam Gruffanuff 
all this time, but stood with her in the embrasure of a window paying 
her compliments. At length the Groom of the Chambers announced 
his Royal Highness the Prince of Crim Tartary! and the noble 
company went into the royal dining room. It was quite a small 
party: only the King and Queen, the Princess, whom Bulbo took 
out, the two princes. Countess Gruffanuff, Glumboso the Prime 
Minister, and Prince Bulbo’s chamberlain. You may be sure they 
had a very good dinner — let every boy and girl think of what he 
or she likes best and fancy it on the table.* 

The Princess talked incessantly all dinner-time to the Prince 
of Crimea, who ate an immense deal too much, and never took his 
eyes off his plate, except when Giglio, who was carving a goose, 
sent a quantity of stuffing and onion sauce into one of them. Giglio 
only burst out a-laughing as the Crimean Prince wiped his shirt- 
front and face with his scented pocket-handkerchief. He did not 
make Prince Bulbo any apology. When the Prince looked at him, 
Giglio would not look that way. When Prince Bulbo said: Prince 
Giglio, may I have the honor of taking a glass of wine with you ? ” 
Giglio wouldn't answer. All his talk and his eyes were for Countess 
Gruffanuff, who you may be sure was pleased with Giglio’s attentions. 


* Here a very pretty game may be played by all the children saying what they like best for dinner. 

[45] 


READ— AND TAKE A WARNING BY’T, 


] 

the vain old creature! When he was not complimenting her, he 
was making fun of Prince Bulbo, so loud that Gruffanuff was always 
tapping him with her fan, and saying: “O you satirical Prince! 
O fie, the Prince will hear!'’ “Well, I don't mind," says Giglio, 
louder still. The King and Queen luckily did not hear; for her 
Majesty was a little deaf, and the King thought so much about his 
own dinner, and, besides, made such a dreadful noise, hobgobbling 
in eating it, that he heard nothing else. After dinner his Majesty 
and the Queen went to sleep in their arm-chairs. 

This was the time when Giglio began his tricks with Prince 
Bulbo, plying that young gentleman with port, sherry, madeira, 
champagne, marsala, cherry brandy, and pale ale, of all of which 
Master Bulbo drank without stint. But in plying his guest, Giglio 
was obliged to drink himself, and, I am sorry to say, took more 
than was good for him, so that the young men were very noisy, rude, 
and foolish when they joined the ladies after dinner; and dearly 
did they pay for that imprudence, as now, my darlings, you shall 
hear! 

Bulbo went and sat by the piano, where Angelica was playing 
and singing, and he sang out of tune, and he upset the coffee when the 
footman brought it, and he laughed out of place, and talked ab- 
surdly, and fell asleep and snored horridly. Booh, the nasty pig! 
But as he lay there stretched on the pink satin sofa, Angelica still 
persisted in thinking him the most beautiful of human beings. No 
doubt the magic rose which Bulbo wore caused this infatuation 
on Angelica's part: but is she the first young woman who has thought 
a silly fellow charming.? 

Giglio must go and sit by Gruffanuff, whose old face he too every 
[46] 


HAVE GOOD CARE OF WHAT YOU WRITE 


moment began to find more lovely. He paid the most outrageous 
compliments to her: There never was such a darling — Older than 
he was? — Fiddle-de-dee! He would marry her — he would have 
nothing but her! 

To marry the heir to the throne! Here was a chance! The 
artful hussy actually got a sheet of paper and wrote upon it: “This 
is to give notice that I, Giglio, only son of Savio, King of Paflagonia, 
hereby promise to marry the charming and virtuous Barbara Gri- 
selda, Countess Gruffanuflf, and widow of the late Jenkins Gruff- 
anuff, Esq.’* 

“What is that you are writing? you charming Gruffy!” says 
Giglio, who was lolling on the sofa by the writing-table. 

“Only an order for you to sign, dear Prince, for giving coals and 
blankets to the poor this cold weather. Look! the King and Queen 
are both asleep, and your Royal Highness’ order will do.” 

So Giglio, who was very good-natured as Gruffy well knew, 
signed the order immediately; and when she had it in her pocket 
you may fancy what airs she gave herself. She was ready to flounce 
out of the room before the Queen herself, as now she was the wife 
of the rightful King of Paflagonia! She would not speak to Glum- 
boso, whom she thought a brute for depriving her dear husband 
of the crown! And when the candles came, and she had helped 
to undress the Queen and Princess, she went into her own room, 
and actually practised on a sheet of paper, “Griselda Paflagonia,” 
“Barbara Regina,” “Griselda Barbara, Paf. Reg.,” and I don’t 
know what signatures besides, against the day when she should 
be Queen, forsooth! 


[47] 





HOW BETSINDA GOT THE WARMING-PAN. 



ITTLE Betsinda came in to put Gruffanuff’s hair 
in paper; and the Countess was so pleased, that, 
for a wonder, she complimented Betsinda. “Bet- 
sinda!’’ she said, “you dressed my hair very nicely 
to-day; I promised you a little present. Here are 
five sh — no, here is a pretty little ring, that I picked 
— that I have had some time.” And she gave Betsinda the ring 
she had picked up in the court. It fitted Betsinda exactly. 

“It’s like the ring the Princess used to wear,” says the maid. 

“No such thing,” says Gruffanuff, “I have had it ever so long. 
There — tuck me up quite comfortable; and now, as it’s a very 
cold night (the snow is beating in at the window), you may go and 
warm dear Prince Giglio’s bed, like a good girl, and then you may 
unrip my green silk, and then you can just do me up a little cap for 
the morning, and then you can mend that hole in my silk stocking, 
and then you can go to bed, Betsinda. Mind, I shall want my cup 
of tea at five o’clock in the morning.” 

“I suppose I had best warm both the young gentlemen’s beds, 
ma’am,” says Betsinda. 


[49] 


POOR BETSINDA, MUCH I FEAR 


Gruff anuff, for reply, said, “Hau-au-ho? — Grau-haw-hoo! — 
Hoong-hrho!’’ In fact, she was snoring sound asleep. 

Her room, you know, is next to the King and Queen, and the 
Princess is next to them. So pretty Betsinda went away for the 
coals to the kitchen, and filled the royal warming-pan. 

Now, she was a very kind, merry, civil, pretty girl; but there 
must have been something very captivating about her this evening, 
for all the women in the servants’ hall began to scold and abuse her. 
The housekeeper said she was a pert, stuck-up thing; the upper- 
housemaid asked, how dare she wear such ringlets and ribbons,, 
it was quite improper! The cook (for there was a woman-cook 
as well as a man-cook) said to the kitchen maid that she never could 
see anything in that creetur; but as for the men, every one of them, 
coachman John, Buttons the page, and Monsieur the Prince of Crim 
Tartary’s valet, started up, and said: — 

“My eyes!” 1 

“O J^mman!” ^ g*""' Betsinda is! 

“O del!” J 

“Hands off; none of your impertinence, you vulgar, low people!’^ 
says Betsinda, walking off with her pan of coals. She heard the 
young gentlemen playing at billiards as she went up stairs: first to 
Prince Giglio’s bed, which she warmed, and then to Prince Bulbo’s 
room. 

He came in just as she had done; and as soon as he saw her, 
“O! O! O! O! O! O! what a beyou — oo — ootiful creature you 
are. You angel — you peri — you rose-bud, let me be thy bulbul 
— thy Bulbo, too! Fly to the desert, fly with me! I never saw a 

[50] 


GRIEF’S IN STORE FOR YOU, MY DEAR 


young gazelle to glad me with its dark blue eye that had eyes like 
thine. Thou nymph of beauty, take, take this young heart. A 
truer never did itself sustain within a soldier’s waistcoat. Be mine! 
Be mine! Be Princess of Grim Tartary! My Royal father will 
approve our union; and, as for that little carroty-haired Angelica, I 
do not care a fig for her any more.” 

“Go away, your Royal Highness, and go to bed, please,” said 
Betsinda, with the warming-pan. 

But Bulbo said: “No, never, till thou swearest to be mine, 
thou lovely, blushing, chambermaid divine! Here, at thy feet, the 
Royal Bulbo lies, the trembling captive of Betsinda’s eyes.” 

And he went on making himself so absurd and ridiculous, that 
Betsinda, who was full of fun, gave him a touch with the warming- 
pan, which, I promise you, made him cry “O-o-o-o!” in a very 
different manner. 

Prince Bulbo made such a noise that Prince Giglio, who 
heard him from the next room, came in to see what was the 
matter. As soon as he saw what was taking place, Giglio, in 
a fury, rushed on Bulbo, kicked him in the rudest manner up 
to the ceiling, and went on kicking him till his hair was quite out 
of curl. 

Poor Betsinda did not know whether to laugh or to cry; the 
kicking certainly must hurt the Prince, but then he looked so droll! 
When Giglio had done knocking him up and down to the ground, and 
whilst he went into a corner rubbing himself, what do you think 
Giglio does.? He goes down on his knees to Betsinda, takes her 
hand, begs her to accept his heart, and offers to marry her that 
moment. Fancy Betsinda’s condition, who had been in love with 

[51] 


JEALOUSY, IN SOME MEN’S SOULS, 


0 


the Prince ever since she first saw him in the Palace garden, when 
she was quite a little child. 

‘‘Oh, divine Betsinda!” says the Prince, “how have I lived 
fifteen years in thy company without seeing thy perfections What 
woman in all Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, nay, in Australia, 
only it is not yet discovered, can presume to be thy equal ? An- 
gelica ? Pish! Gruffanuff.? Phoo! The Queen Ha, ha! Thou 
art my Queen. Thou art the real Angelica because thou art really 
angelic.” 

“Oh, Prince! I am but a poor chambermaid,” says Betsinda, 
looking, however, very much pleased. 

“Didst thou not tend me in my sickness, when all forsook me?” 
continues Giglio. “Did not thy gentle hand smooth my pillow, 
and bring me jelly and roast chicken ?” 

“Yes, dear Prince, I did,” says Betsinda, “and I sewed your 
Royal Highness’ shirt-buttons on too, if you please, your Royal 
Highness,” cries this artless maiden. 

When poor Bulbo, who was now madly in love with Betsinda, 
heard this declaration, when he saw the unmistakable glances which 
she flung upon Giglio, Bulbo began to cry bitterly, and tore quan- 
tities of hair out of his head, till it all covered the room like so much 
tow. 

Betsinda had left the warming-pan on the floor while the Princes 
were going on with their conversation, and as they began now to 
quarrel and be very fierce with one another, she thought proper 
to run away. 

“You great big blubbering booby, tearing your hair in the 
corner there; of course you will give me satisfaction for insulting 

[52] 


WARMER BURNS THAN PANS OF COALS 


Betsinda. You dare to kneel down at Princess Giglio’s knees and 
kiss her hand!” 

“She’s not Princess Giglio!” roars out Bulbo. “She shall be 
Princess Bulbo, and no other shall be Princess Bulbo.” 

“You are engaged to my cousin!” bellows Giglio. 

“I hate your cousin,” says Bulbo. 

“You shall give me satisfaction for insulting her!” cries Giglio 
in a fury. 

“I’ll have your life.” 

“ I’ll run you through.” 

“I’ll cut your throat.” 

“I’ll blow your brains out.” 

“I’ll knock your head off.” 

“I’ll send a friend to you in the morning.” 

“ I’ll send a bullet into you in the afternoon.” 

“We’ll meet again,” says Giglio, shaking his fist in Bulbo’s face; 
and seizing up the warming-pan, he kissed it because, forsooth, 
Betsinda had carried it, and rushed down stairs. What should he 
see on the landing but his Majesty talking to Betsinda, whom he 
called by all sorts of fond names. His Majesty had heard a row in 
the building, so he stated, and smelling something burning had 
come out to see what the matter was. 

“It’s the young gentlemen smoking, perhaps, sir,” says Betsinda. 

“Charming chambermaid,” says the King (like all the rest of 
them), “never mind the young men! Turn thy eyes on a middle- 
aged autocrat, who has been considered not ill-looking in his time.” 

“Oh, sir! what will her Majesty say.?” cries Betsinda. 

“Her Majesty!” laughs the monarch. “Her Majesty be hanged. 

[53] 




] 


BURNING LOVE WILL KNOCK YOU DOWN 


[ 


Am I not Autocrat of Paflagonia ? Have I not blocks, ropes, axes, 
hangmen — ha ? Runs not a river by my palace wall ? Have I 
not sacks to sew up wives withal ? Say but the word, that thou 
wilt be mine own, — your mistress straightway in a sack is sewn, 
and thou the sharer of my heart and throne/’ 

When Giglio heard these atrocious sentiments, he forgot the 
respect usually paid to Royalty, lifted up the warming-pan and 
knocked down the King as flat as a pancake; after which, Mastef 
Giglio took to his heels and ran away, and Betsinda went off scream- 
ing, and the Queen, the Princess, and Gruffanuff all came out or 
their rooms. Fancy their feelings on beholding their husband, 
father, sovereign, in this posture! 


[54] 



HOW KING VALOROSO WAS IN A DREADFUL PASSION. 



S soon as the coals began to burn him, the King 
came to himself and stood up. “Ho! my captain 
of the guards!’’ his Majesty exclaimed, stamping 
his royal feet with rage. O piteous spectacle! the 
King’s nose was bent quite crooked by the blow of 
Prince Giglio. His Majesty ground his teeth with 
rage. “ Hedzoff,” he said, taking a death warrant out of his dress- 
ing-gown pocket, “Hedzoff, good Hedzoff, seize upon the Prince. 
Thou’lt find him in his chamber two pair up. But now he dared, 
with sacrilegious hand, to strike the sacred night-cap of a king — 
Hedzoff, and floor me with a warming-pan! Away, no more demur, 
the villain dies! See it be done, or else, — h’m! — ha! — h’m! mind 
thine own eyes!” and followed by the ladies, and lifting up the tails 
of his dressing-gown, the King entered his own apartment. 

Captain Hedzoff was very much affected, having a sincere love 
for Giglio. “Poor, poor Giglio!” he said, the tears rolling over his 
manly face, and dripping down his moustachios; “my noble young 
prince, is it my hand must lead thee to death ?” 

“Lead him to fiddlestick, Hedzoff,” said a female voice. It 

[55] 


was Gruffanuff, who had come out in her dressing-gown when she 
heard the noise. “The King said you were to hang the Prince. 
Well, hang the Prince.” 

“I don’t understand you,” says Hedzoff, who was not a very 
clever man. 

“You Gaby! he didn’t s,2iy which Prince,” says Gruffanuff. 

“No; he didn’t say which, certainly,” said Hedzoff. 

“Well, then, take Bulbo, and hang him!” 

When Captain Hedzoff heard this he began to dance about for 
joy. “Obedience is a soldier’s honor,” says he. “Prince Bulbo’s 
head will do capitally,” and he went to arrest the Prince the very 
first thing next morning. 

He knocked at the door. “Who’s there.?” says Bulbo. “Cap- 
tain Hedzoff.? Step in, pray, my good Captain. Pm delighted to 
see you. I have been expecting you.” 

“ Have you .? ” says Hedzoff. 

“Sleibootz, my Chamberlain, will act for me,” says the Prince. 

“I beg your Royal Highness’ pardon, but you will have to act 
for yourself, and it’s a pity to wake Baron Sleibootz.” 

The Prince Bulbo still seemed to take the matter very coolly. 
“Of course. Captain,” says he, “you are come about that affair 
with Prince Giglio.” 

“Precisely,” says Hedzoff, “that affair of Prince Giglio.” 

“Is it to be pistols or swords. Captain.?” asks Bulbo. “I’m a 
pretty good hand with both, and I’ll do for Prince Giglio as sure 
as my name is my Royal Highness Prince Bulbo.” 

“There’s some mistake, my Lord,” says the Captain. “The 
business is done with axes among us.” 

“Axes.? That’s sharp work,” says Bulbo. “Call my Chamber- 

[56] 





lain; he’ll be my second, and in ten minutes I flatter myself you’ll 
see Master Giglio’s head off his impertinent shoulders. I’m hungry 
for his blood! Hoo-oo, aw!” and he looked as savage as an ogre. 

“I beg your pardon, sir, but by this warrant I am to take you 
prisoner, and hand you over to — to the executioner.” 

“Pooh, pooh, my good man! — Stop, I say — ho! — hulloa!” 
was all that this luckless prince was enabled to say, for Hedzoff’s 
Guards seizing him, tied a handkerchief over his mouth and face, 
and carried him to the place of execution. 

The King, who happened to be talking to Glumboso, saw him 

[57] 




LEAVING BULBO IN A FIX 




0 


pass, and took a pinch of snuff, and said: ‘‘So much for Giglio. 
Now let’s go to breakfast.” 

The Captain of the Guard handed over his prisoner to the Sheriff, 
with the fatal order: 


‘‘At sight cut off the bearer’s head. 

“Valoroso XXIV.” 


“It’s a mistake,” said Bulbo, who did not seem to understand 
the business in the least. 

“Poo — poo — pooh,” says the Sheriff. “Fetch Jack Ketch 
instantly. Jack Ketch!” 

And poor Bulbo was led to the scaffold, where an executioner 
with a block and a tremendous axe was always ready in case he 
should be wanted. 

But we must now revert to Giglio and Betsinda. 


[58] 



WHAT GRUFFANUFF DID TO GIGLIO AND BETSINDA. 



RUFFANUFF, who had seen what had happened 
with the King, and knew that Giglio must come to 
grief, got up very early the next morning, and went 
to devise some plans for rescuing her darling 
husband, as the silly old thing insisted on calling 
him. She found him walking up and down the 
garden, thinking of a rhyme for Betsinda {tinder and winda were 
all he could find), and indeed having forgotten all about the past 
evening, except that Betsinda was the most lovely of beings. 

“Well, dear Giglio,” says Gruff. 

“Well, dear Gruffy,” says Giglio, only he was quite satirical. 

“ I have been thinking, darling, what you must do in this scrape. 
You must fly the country for a while.” 

“What scrape.? — fly the country.? Never without her I love. 
Countess,” says Giglio. 

“No, she will accompany you, dear Prince,” she says, in her 
most coaxing accents. “First we must get the jewels belonging 
to our royal parents, and those of her and his present Majesty. 
Here is the key, duck; they are all yours you know by right, for 

[59] 



you are the rightful King of Paflagonia, and your wife will be the 
rightful Queen.” 

“Will she?” says Giglio. 

“Yes; and having got the jewels, go to Glumboso’s apartment, 
where, under his bed, you will find sacks containing money to the 
amount of ;^2 17,000,000,987,439 13^. all belonging to you, 

for he took it out of your royal father’s room on the day of his death. 
With this we will fly.” 

We will fly ? ” says Giglio. 

“Yes, you and your bride — your affianced love — your Gruffy!” 
says the Countess, with a languishing leer. 

“ 2 ^ow, my bride!” says Giglio. “You, you hideous old woman.” 

“O you, you wretch! didn’t you give me this paper promising 
marriage ? ” cries Gruflf. 


[60] 




WE RETURN TO GRUFFY’S TRICKS 


“Get away, you old goose! I love Betsinda, and Betsinda only!” 
And in a fit of terror he ran from her as quickly as he could. 

“He! he! he!” shrieks out Gruff, “a promise is a promise, if 
there are laws in Paflagonia! And as for that monster, that wretch, 
that fiend, that ugly little vixen — as for that upstart, that ingrate, 
that beast, Betsinda, Master Giglio will have no little difficulty in 
discovering her whereabouts. He may look very long before finding 
her, I warrant. He little knows that Miss Betsinda is — ” 

Is — what ? Now, you shall hear. Poor Betsinda got up at 
five in winter’s morning to bring her cruel mistress her tea; and 
instead of finding her in a good humor, found Gruffy as cross as 
two sticks. The Countess boxed Betsinda’s ears half a dozen times 
whilst she was dressing; but as poor Betsinda was used to this kind 
of treatment, she did not feel any special alarm. “And now,” says 
she, “when her Majesty rings her bell twice. I’ll trouble you, miss, 
to attend.” 

So when the Queen’s bell rang twice, Betsinda came to her 
Majesty and made a pretty little curtsey. The Queen, the Princess, 
and Gruffanuff were all three in the room. As soon as they saw 
her they began. 

“You wretch!” says the Queen. 

“You little vulgar thing!” says the Princess. 

^‘You beast!” says Gruffanuff. 

“Get out of my sight!” says the Queen. 

“Go away with you, do!” says the Princess. 

“Quit the premises!” says Gruffanuff. 

Alas! and woe is me! very lamentable events had occurred to 

[6i 1 


SEE HOW WOMAN’S ANGER FLIES OUT, 


0 


Betsinda that morning, and all in consequence of that fatal warm- 
ing-pan business of the previous night. The King had offered to 
marry her; of course her Majesty the Queen was jealous: Bulbo 
had fallen in love with her; of course Angelica was furious: Giglio 
was in love with her, and O what a fury Gruffy was in! 


cap 


“Take off that i petticoat V I gave you,’’ they said, all at once, 
( gown ] 

and began tearing the clothes off poor Betsinda. 



“ How dare you 
flirt with 


“Give her the rags she wore when she came into the house, and 
turn her out of it!” cries the Queen. 

“Mind she does not go with my shoes on, which I lent her so 
kindly,” says the Princess; and indeed the Princess’ shoes were 
great deal too big for Betsinda. 

“Come with me, you filthy huzzy!” and taking up the Queen’s 
poker, the cruel Gruffanuff drove Betsinda into her room. 

The Countess went to the glass box in which she had kept Bet- 
sinda’s old cloak and shoe this ever so long, and said: “Take those 
rags, you little beggar creature, and strip off everything belonging 
to honest people, and go about your business;” and she actually 
tore off the poor little delicate thing’s back almost all her things, 
and told her to be off out of the house. 

Poor Betsinda huddled the cloak round her back, on which 
were embroidered the letters prin . . . rosal . . . and then came a 
great rent. 


SURE THEY’LL TEAR BETSINDA’S EYES OUT 


As for the shoe, what was she to do with one poor little tootsey 
sandal ? the string was still to it, so she hung it round her neck. 

“Won’t you give me a pair of shoes to go out in the snow, mum, 
if you please, mum!” cried the poor child. 

“No, you wicked beast!” says Gruff anuff, driving her along 
with the poker — driving her down the cold stairs — driving her 
through the cold hall — flinging her out into the cold street, so that 
the knocker itself shed tears to see her! 

But a kind fairy made the soft snow warm for her little feet 
and she wrapped herself up in the ermine of her mantle and was 
gone. 

“And now let us think about breakfast,” says the greedy Queen. 

“What dress shall I put on, mamma ? the pink or the pea-green,” 
says Angelica. “Which do you think the dear Prince will like best ?” 

“Mrs. V.!” sings out the King from his dressing-room, “let 
us have sausages for breakfast! Remember we have Prince Bulbo 
staying with us!” 

And they all went to get ready. 

Nine o’clock came, and they were all in the breakfast-room, and 
no Prince Bulbo as yet. The urn was hissing and humming; the 
muffins were smoking — such a heap of muffins! the eggs were 
done, there was a pot of raspberry jam, and coffee, and a beautiful 
chicken and tongue on the side table. Marmitonio the cook brought 
in the sausages. O how nice they smelt! 

“Where is Bulbo.?” said the King. “John, where is his Royal 
Highness ? ” 

John said he had a took hup his Roilighnessesses shaving-water, 

[63] 


WHILE THE ROPE’S ROUND BULBO’S NECK FAST 


and his clothes and things, and he wasn’t in his room, which he 
sposed his Royaliness was just stepped hout. 

“Stepped out before breakfast in the snow! Impossible!” says 
the King, sticking his fork into a sausage. “My dear, take one. 
Angelica, won’t you have a saveloy ” The Princess took one, 
being very fond of them; and at this moment Glumboso entered 
with Captain Hedzoff, both looking very much disturbed. “I am 
afraid your Majesty — ” cries Glumboso. “No business before 
breakfast. Glum!” says the King. “Breakfast first, business next. 
Mrs. V., some more sugar!” 

“Sire, I’m afraid if we wait till after breakfast it will be too late,”^ 
says Glumboso. “ He — he — he’ll be hanged at half-past nine.” 

“Don’t talk about hanging and spoil my breakfast, you unkind, 
vulgar man you!” cries the Princess. “John, some mustard. Pray 
who is to be hanged ” 

“Sire, it is the Prince,” whispers Glumboso to the King. 

“Talk about business after breakfast, I tell you!” says his Ma- 
jesty, quite sulky. 

“^We shall have a war. Sire, depend on it,” says the Minister. 
“His father. King Padella — ” 

“His father. King who?” says the King. “King Padella is not 
Giglio’s father. My brother. King Savio, was Giglio’s father.” 

“It’s Prince Bulbo they are hanging. Sire, not Prince Giglio,” 
says the Prime Minister. 

“You told me to hang the Prince, and I took the ugly one,” says 
Hedzoff. “I didn’t, of course, think your Majesty intended to 
murder your own flesh and blood ! ” 

[64] 


KING AND QUEEN SIT DOWN TO BREAKFAST 


The King for all reply flung the plate of sausages at Hedzoff’s 
head. The Princess cried out Hee-karee-karee! and fell down in 
a fainting fit. 

“Turn the cock of the urn upon her Royal Highness/’ said 
the King, and the boiling water gradually revived her. His Ma- 
jesty looked at his watch, compared it by the clock in the parlor, 
and by that of the church in the square opposite; then he wound 
it up; then he looked at it again. “The great question is,” says 
he, “am I fast or am I slow .? If Pm slow, we may as well go on with 
breakfast. If I’m fast, why there is just the possibility of saving 
Prince Bulbo. It’s a doosid awkward mistake, and upon my word, 
Hedzoff, I have the greatest mind to have you hanged too.” 

“Sire, I did but my duty; a soldier has but his orders. I didn’t 
expect after forty-seven years of faithful service that my sovereign 
would think of putting me to a felon’s death!” 

“A hundred thousand plagues upon you! Can’t you see that 
while you are talking my Bulbo is being hung!” screamed the Prin- 
cess. 


“By Jove! she’s always right, that girl, and I’m so absent,” 
says the King, looking at his watch again. “Ha! there go the drums! 
What a doosid awkward thing though!” 

“O papa, you goose! Write the reprieve, and let me run with 
it,” cries the Princess — and she got a sheet of paper, and pen and 
ink, and laid them before the King. 

[65] 


HERE, UPON THE VERY SCAFFOLD 


“Confound it! Where are my spectacles!’’ the monarch ex- 
claimed. “Angelica! Go up into my bedroom, look under my 
pillo.w, not your mamma’s; there you’ll see my keys. Bring them 
down to me, and — Well, well! what impetuous things these girls 
are!” Angelica was gone and had run up panting to the bedroom,, 
and found the keys, and was back again before the King had finished 
a muffin. “Now, love,” say she, “you must go all the way back for 
my desk, in which my spectacles are. If you would have heard 
me out ... Be hanged to her! There she is off again! Angelica! 
Angelica!” When his Majesty called in his loud voice, she knew 
she must obey, and came back. 

“My dear, when you go out of a room, how often have I told 
you, shut the door. That’s a darling. That’s all.” At last the 
keys and the desk and the spectacles were got, and the King mended 
his pen, and signed his name to a reprieve, and Angelica ran with 
it as swift as the wind. “You’d better stay, my love, and finish 
the muffins. There’s no use going. Be sure it’s too late. Hand 
me over that raspberry jam, please,” said the monarch. “Bong! 
Bawong! There goes the half hour. I knew it was.” 

Angelica ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. She ran up Fore 
Street, and down High Street, and through the market-place, and 
down to the left, and over the bridge, and up the blind alley, and 
back again, and round by the Castle, and so along by the Haber- 
dasher’s on the right, opposite the lamp-post, and round the square, 
and she came — she came to the Execution place, where she saw 
Bulbo laying his head on the block! ! ! The executioner raised 

[ 66 ] 


THANK YOUR STARS ! JACK KETCH IS BAFFLED 


his axe, but at that moment the Princess came panting up and 
cried Reprieve. “Reprieve!” screamed the Princess. “Reprieve!” 
shouted all the people. Up the scaffold stairs she sprang, with 
the agility of a lighter of lamps; and flinging herself in Bulbo’s 
arms, regardless of all ceremony, she cried out: “O my Prince! 
my lord! my love! my Bulbo! Thine Angelica has been in time 
to save thy precious existence, sweet rosebud; to prevent thy being 
nipped in thy young bloom! Had aught befallen thee, Angelica 
too had died, and welcomed death that joined her to her Bulbo.” 

“H’m! there’s no accounting for tastes,” said Bulbo, looking so 
very much puzzled and uncomfortable that the Princess, in tones 
of tenderest strain, asked the cause of his disquiet. 

“I tell you what it is, Angelica,” said he, “since I came here 
yesterday there has been such a row, and disturbance, and quar- 
relling, and fighting, and chopping of heads off, and the deuce to pay, 
that I am inclined to go back to Crim Tartary.” 

“But with me as thy bride, my Bulbo! Though wherever 
thou art is Crim Tartary to me, my bold, my beautiful, my Bulbo! ” 

“Well, well, I suppose we must be married,” says Bulbo. “Doc- 
tor, you came to read the funeral service — read the marriage ser- 
vice, will you. What must be, must. That will satisfy Angelica, 
and then, in the name of peace and quietness, do let us go back to 
breakfast.” 

Bulbo had carried a rose in his mouth all the time of the dismal 

[67] 


BULBO AND HIS BRIDE ARE MARRIED 


0 


ceremony. It was a fairy rose, and he was told by his mother, that 
he ought never to part with it. So he had kept it between his teeth,, 
even when he laid his poor head upon the block, hoping vaguely 
that some chance would turn up in his favor. As he began to speak 
to Angelica, he forgot about the rose, and of course it dropped out 
of his mouth. The romantic Princess instantly stooped and seized 
it. “Sweet rose!” she exclaimed, “that bloomed upon my Bulbo’s 
lip, never, never will I part from thee!” and she placed it in her 
bosom. And you know Bulbo couldn’t ask her to give the rose back 
again. And they went to breakfast; and as they walked, it appeared 
to Bulbo that Angelica became more exquisitely lovely every moment. 

He was frantic until they were married; and now, strange to say, 
it was Angelica who didn’t care about him! He knelt down, he 
kissed her hand, he prayed and begged; he cried with admiration, 
while she for her part said she really thought they might wait; it 
seemed to her he was not handsome any more — no, not at all, 
quite the reverse, and not clever, no, very stupid, and not well-bred 
like Giglio; no, on the contrary, dreadfully vul — 

What I cannot say, for King Valoroso roared out “Poo/?, stuff!” 
in a terrible voice. “We will have no more of this shilly-shallying! 
Call the archbishop, and let the Prince and Princess be married 
off-hand!” 


So married they were, and I am sure for my part I trust they 
will be happy. 



HOW BETSINDA FLED, AND WHAT BECAME OF HER. 



ETSINDA wandered on and on, till she passed 
through the town gates, and so on the great Crim 
Tartary road, the very way on which Giglio, too, 
was going. “Ah!” thought she, as the diligence 
passed her, of which the conductor was blowing 
a delightful tune on his horn, “how I should like 
to be on that coach!” But the coach and the jingling horses were 
very soon gone. She little knew who was in it, though very likely 
she was thinking of him all the time. 

Then came an empty cart, returning from market; and the driver 
being a kind man, and seeing such a very pretty girl trudging along 
the road with bare feet, most good-naturedly gave her a seat. He 
said he lived on the confines of the forest, where his old father was 
a woodman, and, if she liked, he would take her so far on her road. 
All roads were the same to little Betsinda, so she very thankfully 
took this one. 

And the carter put a cloth round her bare feet, and gave her 
some bread and cold bacon, and was very kind to her. For all 

[69] 


TO A HUT SHE GAINS ADMISSION 


[ 




that she was very cold and melancholy. When, after travelling on 
and on, evening came, and all the black pines were bending with 
snow, there, at last, was the comfortable light beaming in the wood- 
man’s windows, and so they arrived, and went into his cottage. He 
was an old man, and had a number of children, who were just at 
supper, with nice hot bread and milk, when their elder brother 
arrived with the cart. And they jumped and clapped their hands; 
for they were good children, and he had brought them toys from the 
town. And when they saw the pretty stranger they ran to her, and 
brought her to the fire, and rubbed her poor little feet, and brought 
her bread and milk. 

‘‘Look, Father!” they said to the old woodman, “look at this 
poor girl and see what pretty cold feet she has. They are as white 
as our milk! And look and see what an odd cloak she has, just 
like a bit of velvet that hangs up in our cupboard, and which you 
found that day the little cubs were killed by King Padella in the 
forest! And look, why bless us all! she has got round her neck 
just such another little shoe as that you brought home, and have 
shown us so often — a little blue velvet shoe!” 

“What,” said the old woodman, “What is all this about a shoe 
and a cloak.?” 

And Betsinda explained that she had been left, when quite a 
little child, at the town with this cloak and this shoe. And the 
persons who had taken care of her had — had been angry with her 
for no fault, she hoped of her own. And they had sent her away 
with her old clothes — and here, in fact, she was. She remembered 
having been in a forest — and perhaps it was a dream — it was so 
very odd and strange — having lived in a cave with lions there; 

[70] 


WHAT A TOUCHING RECOGNITION 


and, before that, having lived in a very, very fine house, as fine as 
a king’s, in a town. 

When the woodman heard this, he was so astonished, it was 
quite curious to see how astonished he was. He went to his cupboard, 
and took out of a stocking a five-shilling piece of King Cavolfiore, 
and vowed it was exactly like the young woman. And then he 
produced the shoe and piece of velvet which he had kept so long, 
and compared them with the things which Betsinda wore. In Bet- 
sinda’s little shoe was written, “Hopkins, maker to the Royal Fam- 
ily”; so in the oher shoe was written, “Hopkins, maker to the 
Royal Family.” In the inside of Betsinda’s piece of cloak was 
embroidered, “prin rosal”; in the other piece of cloak was em- 
broidered, “cess BA No. 246.” So that when put together you 
read, “princess rosalba. No. 246.” 

On seeing this, the dear old woodman fell down on his knee, 
saying: “O my Princess, O my gracious royal lady, O my rightful 
Queen of Crim Tartary, — I hail thee — I acknowledge thee — I 
do thee homage!” And in token of his fealty, he rubbed his vener- 
able nose three times on the ground, and put the Princess’ foot on 
his head. 

“Why,” said she, “my good woodman, you must be a nobleman 
of my father’s court!” For in her lowly retreat, and under the 
name of Betsinda, her Majesty, Rosalba, Queen of Crim Tar- 
tary, had read of the customs of all foreign courts and nations. 

“Marry, indeed, am I, my gracious liege — the poor Lord Spin- 
achi, once — the humble woodman these fifteen years syne. Ever 
since the tyrant, Padella (may. ruin overtake the treacherous knave!), 
dismissed me from my post of First Lord.” 

[71] 


CHAMPION BOLD OF RIGHT AND BEAUTY 


[ 


“First Lord of the Toothpick and Joint Keeper of the Snuff- 
box? I mind me! Thou heldest these posts under our royal Sire. 
They are restored to thee, Lord Spinachi! I make thee knight of 
the second class of our Order of the Pumpkin (the first class being 
reserved for crowned heads alone). Rise Marquis of Spinachi!’’ 
And with indescribable majesty, the Queen, who had no sword 
handy, waved the pewter spoon with which she had been taking 
her bread-and-milk, over the bald head of the old nobleman, whose 
tears absolutely made a puddle on the ground, and whose dear 
children went to bed that night Lords and Ladies Bartolomeo, 
Ubaldo, Catarina, and Ottavia degli Spinachi! 

The acquaintance her Majesty showed with the history, and 
nohle families of her empire, was wonderful. “The House of Broc- 
coli should remain faithful to us,” she said; “they were ever wel- 
come at our Court. Have the Articiocchi, as was their wont, turned 
to the Rising Sun ? The family of Sauerkraut must sure be with 
us — they were ever welcome in the halls of King Cavolfiore.” 
And so she went on enumerating quite a list of the nobility and gentry 
of Crim Tartary, so admirably had her Majesty profited by her 
studies while in exile. 

The old Marquis of Spinachi said he could answer for them 
all; that the whole country groaned under Padella’s tyranny, and 
longed to return to its rightful sovereign; and late as it was, he sent 
his children who knew the forest well, to summon this nobleman 
and that; and when his eldest son, who had been rubbing the horse 
down and giving him his supper, came into the house for his own, 
the Marquis told him to put his boots on, and a saddle on the mare, 
and ride hither and thither to such and such people. 

[72] 


TO ROSALBA PAY YOUR DUTY 


When the young man heard who his companion in the cart had 
been, he too knelt down and put her royal foot on his head; he too 
bedewed the ground with his tears; he was frantically in love with 
her as everybody now was who saw her; so were the young Lords 
Bartolomeo and Ubaldo, who punched each other’s little heads 
out of jealousy: and so, when they came from the east and west, 
at the summons of the Marquis degli Spinachi, were the Grim Tartar 
Lords who still remained faithful to the House of Cavolfiore. They 
were such very old gentlemen for the most part, that her Majesty 
never suspected their absurd passion, and went among them quite 
unaware of the havoc her beauty was causing, until an old blind 
Lord who had joined her party, told her what the truth was; after 
which, for fear of making the people too much in love with her, 
she always wore a veil. She went about privately, from one noble- 
man’s castle to another; and they visited amongst themselves again, 
and had meetings, and composed proclamations, and counter-procla- 
mations, and distributed all the best places of the kingdom amongst 
one another, and selected who of the opposition party should be 
executed when the Queen came to her own. And so in about a year 
they were ready to move. 

The party of Fidelity was in truth composed of very feeble old 
fogies for the most part; they went about the country waving their 
old swords and flags, and calling ‘^God save the Queen!” and King 
Padella happening to be absent upon an invasion, they had their 
own way a little, and to be sure the people were very enthusiastic 
whenever they saw the Queen; otherwise the vulgar took matters 
very quietly, for they said, as far as they could recollect, they were 
pretty well as much taxed in Cavolfiore’s time, as now in Padella’s. 

[73] 


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HOW QUEEN ROSALBA CAME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BOLD 
COUNT HOGGINARMO. 



ER MAJESTY, having indeed nothing else to give, 
made all her followers Knights of the Pumpkin, and 
marquises, earls, and baronets, and they had a little 
court for her, and made her a little crown of 
gilt paper, and a robe of cotton velvet, and they 
quarrelled about the places to be given away 
in her court, and about rank and precedence and dignities; — 
you can’t think how they quarrelled! The poor Queen was very 
tired of her honors before she had had them a month, and I 
dare say sighed sometimes even to be a lady’s maid again. But 
we must all do our duty in our respective stations, so the Queen 
resigned herself to perform hers. 

We have said how it happened that none of the Usurper’s troops 
came out to oppose this Army of Fidelity: it pottered along as 
nimbly as the gout of the principal commanders allowed; it con- 
sisted of twice as many officers as soldiers; and at length passed 
near the estates of one of the most powerful noblemen of the country, 

[75] 


1 


HOW COUNT HOGGINARMO WOO’D HER 


Q 

who had not declared for the Queen, but of whom her party had hope, 
as he was always quarrelling with King Padella. 

When they came close to his park gates, this nobleman sent to 
say he would wait upon her Majesty; he was a most powerful war- 
rior, and his name was Count Hogginarmo, whose helmet it took 
two strong negroes to carry. He knelt down before her and said: 
“Madam and liege lady! it becomes the great nobles of the Crimean 
realm to show every outward sign of respect to the wearer of the 
crown, whoever that may be. We testify to our own nobility in 
acknowledging yours. The bold Hogginarmo bends the knee to 
the first of the aristocracy of his country.’’ 

Rosalba said, “The bold Count of Hogginarmo was uncommonly 
kind.” But she felt afraid of him, even while he was kneeling, 
and his eyes scowled at her from between his whiskers, which grew 
up to them. 

“The first Count of the Empire, madam,” he went on, “salutes 
the sovereign. The Prince addresses himself to the not more noble 
lady! Madam! my hand is free, and I offer it, and my heart and 
my sword to your service! My three wives lie buried in my an- 
cestral vaults. The third perished but a year since, and this heart 
pines for a consort! Deign to be mine, and I swear to bring to 
your bridal table the head of King Padella, the eyes and nose 
of his son. Prince Bulbo, the right hand and ears of the usurping 
sovereign of Paflagonia, which country shall henceforth be an ap- 
panage to your — to our Crown! Say yes; Hogginarmo is not 
accustomed to be denied. Indeed, I cannot contemplate the 
possibility of a refusal: for frightful would be the result, dread- 
ful the murders, furious the devastations, horrible the tyranny, 

[76] 


SURELY NOTHING COULD BE RUDER 


tremendous the tortures, misery, taxation, which the people of 
this realm will endure if Hogginarmo’s wrath be aroused! I see 
consent in your Majesty’s lovely eyes — their glances fill my soul 
with rapture!” 

“O sir,” Rosalba said, withdrawing her hand in great fright. 
“Your Lordship is exceedingly kind, but I am sorry to tell you 
that I have a prior attachment to a young gentleman by the 
name of — Prince — Giglio — and never — never can marry any 
one but him.” 

Who can describe Hogginarmo’s wrath at this remark ? Rising 
up from the ground, he ground his teeth so that fire flashed out of 
his mouth, from which at the same time issued remarks and lan- 
guage so loud, violent, and improper, that this pen shall never 
repeat them! “R-r-r-r-r-r — Rejected! Fiends and perdition! The 
bold Hogginarmo rejected! All the world shall hear of my rage; 
and you, madam, you above all shall rue it!” And kicking the 
two negroes before him, he rushed away, his whiskers streaming in 
the wind. 

Her Majesty’s Privy Council was in a dreadful panic when they 
saw Hogginarmo issue from the royal presence in such a towering 
rage, making footballs of the poor negroes, — a panic which the 
events justified. They marched off from Hogginarmo’s park very 
crestfallen, and in another half-hour they were met by that ra- 
pacious chieftain with a few of his followers, who cut, slashed, 
charged, whacked, banged, and pommelled amongst them, took 
the Queen prisoner, and drove the Army of Fidelity to I don’t 
know where. 

Poor Queen! Hogginarmo, her conqueror, would not con- 

177 ] 


] 


MUCH I FEAR YOUR REIGN IS OVER 


[ 


descend to see her. “Get a horse-van!’' he said to his grooms. 
“Clap the hussy into it, and send her, with my compliments, to his 
Majesty King Padella.” 

Along with his lovely prisoner, Hogginarmo sent a letter full 
of servile compliments and loathsome flatteries to King Padella, 
for whose life and that of his royal family the hypocritical humbug 
pretended to offer the most fulsome prayers. And Hogginarmo 
promised speedily to pay his humble homage at his august master’s 
throne, of wich he begged leave to be counted the most loyal and 
constant defender. Such a wary old bird as King Padella was not 
to be caught by Master Hogginarmo’s chaffs and we shall hear pres- 
ently how the tyrant treated his upstart vassal. No, no; depend 
on’t, two such rogues do not trust one another. 

So this poor Queen was laid in the straw like Margery Daw, 
and driven along in the dark ever so many miles to the Court, where 
King Padella had now arrived, having vanquished all his enemies, 
murdered most of them, and brought some of the richest into cap- 
tivity with him for the purpose of torturing them and finding out where 
they had hidden their money. 

Rosalba heard their shrieks and groans in the dungeon in which 
she was thrust; a most awful black hole, full of bats, rats, mice, 
toads, frogs, mosquitoes, bugs, fleas, serpents, and every kind of 
horror. No light was let into it, otherwise the gaolers might have 
seen her and fallen in love with her, as an owl that lived up in the 
roof of the tower did; and a cat, you know, who can see in the dark, 
having set its green eyes on Rosalba never would be got to go back 
to the turnkey’s wife to whom it belonged. And the toads in the 
dungeon came and kissed her feet, and the vipers wound round 

[78] 



POOR ROSALBA! WHERE IS YOUR LOVER? 

her neck and arms, and never hurt her, so charming was this pooj 
Princess in the midst of her misfortunes. 

At last, after she had been kept in this place ever so long, the door 
of the dungeon opened and the terrible King Padella came in. 

But what he said and did must be reserved for another chapter, 
as we must now back to Prince Giglio. 



[79] 







WHAT BECAME OF GIGLIO. 



HE idea of marrying such an old creature as Gruff- 
anuff frightenLxj Prince Giglio so that he ran up 
to his room, packed his trunks, fetched in a couple 
of porters, and was off to the diligence office in a 
twinkling. 

It was well that he was so quick in his operations, 
did not dawdle over his luggage, and took the early coach, for as soon 
as the mistake about Prince Bulbo was found out, that cruel Glum- 
boso sent up a couple of policemen to Prince Giglio’s room, with orders 
that he should be carried to Newgate, and his head taken off before 
twelve o’clock. But the coach was out of the Paflagonian domin- 
ions before two o’clock; and I dare say the express that was sent 
after Prince Giglio did not ride very quick, for many people in Pa- 
flagonia had a regard for Giglio, as the son of their old sovereign; 
a Prince who, with all his weaknesses, was very much better than 
his brother — the reigning, usurping, lazy, careless, passionate, 
tyrannical, reigning monarch. That Prince busied himself with 
the balls, fetes, masquerades, hunting parties, and so forth, which 
he thought proper to give, on occasion of his daughter’s marriage 

[8i] 



to Prince Bulbo; and let us trust was not sorry in his own heart 
that his brother’s son had escaped the scaffold. 

It was very cold weather, and the snow was on the ground, and 
Giglio, who gave his name as simple Mr. Gills, was very glad to 
get a comfortable place in the coupe of the diligence, where he sat 
with the conductor and another gentleman. At the first stage from 
Blombodinga, as they stopped to change horses, there came up to 
the diligence a very ordinary, vulgar-looking woman, with a bag 
under her arm, who asked for a place. All the inside places were 
taken, and the young woman was informed that if she wished to 
travel, she must go upon the roof; and the passenger inside with 
Giglio (a rude person, I should think) put his head out of the win- 
dow, and said: “Nice weather for travelling outside! I wish you 
a pleasant journey, my dear.” The poor woman coughed very much, 
and Giglio pitied her. “I will give up my place to her,” says he, 
“rather than she should travel in the cold air with that horrid cough.” 
On which the vulgar traveller said: ^^Toud keep her warm, I am 
sure, if it’s a muff she wants.” On which Giglio pulled his nose, 
boxed his ears, hit him in the eye, and gave this vulgar person a 
warning never to call him muff again. 

Then he sprang up gaily on to the roof of the diligence, and 
made himself very comfortable in the straw. The vulgar traveller 
got down only at the next station, and Giglio took his place again, 
and talked to the person next to him. She appeared to be a most 
agreeable, well-informed, and entertaining female. They travelled 
together till night, and she gave Giglio all sorts of things out of the 
bag which she carried, and which indeed seemed to contain the most 
wonderful collection of articles. He was thirsty — out there came 

[82] 


MASTER GIGLIO ACTS POLITELY 


a pint bottle of Bass’ pale ale, and a silver mug! Hungry — she 
took out a cold fowl, some slices of ham, bread, salt, and a most 
delicious piece of cold plum-pudding, and a little glass of brandy 
afterwards. 

As they travelled, this plain-looking, queer woman talked to 
Giglio on a variety of subjects, in which the poor Prince showed 
his ignorance as much as she did her capacity. He owned, with 
many blushes, how ignorant he was; on which the lady said: *‘My 
dear Gigl — my good Mr. Gills, you are a young man, and have 
plenty of time before you. You have nothing to do but to improve 
yourself. Who knows but that you may find use for your knowl- 
edge some day .? When — when you may be wanted at home, 
as some people may be.” 

“Good Heavens, madam!” says he, “do you know me.?” 

“I know a number of funny things,” says the lady. “I have 
been at some people’s christenings, and turned away from other 
folk’s doors. I have seen some people spoilt by good fortune, and 
others, as I hope, improved by hardship. I advise you to stay at 
the town where the coach stops for the night. Stay there and study, 
and remember your old friend to whom you were kind.” 

“And who is my old friend.?” asked Giglio. 

“When you want anything,” says the lady, “look in this bag, 
which I leave to you as a present, and be grateful to — ” 

“To whom, madam.?” says he. 

“To the Fairy Blackstick,” says the lady, flying out of the win- 
dow. And when Giglio asked the conductor if he knew where 
the lady was, “What lady?” says the man; “there has been no 
lady in this coach, except the old woman, who got out at the last 

[83] 


1 


OF THE BAG, AND HOW SHE GAVE IT 


[ 


Stage.” And Giglio thought he had been dreaming. But there 
was the bag which Blackstick had given him lying on his lap; and 
when he came to the town he took it in his hand and went into the 
inn. 

They gave him a very bad bedroom, and Giglio, when he woke 
in the morning, fancying himself in the Royal Palace at home, called, 
“John, Charles, Thomas! My chocolate — my dressing-gown — 
my slippers”; but nobody came. There was no bell, so he went 
and bawled out for waiter on the top of the stairs. 

The landlady came up, looking — looking like this — 



“What are you hollaring and a bellaring for here, young man?” 
says she. 

“ There’s no warm water — no servants ; my boots are not even 
cleaned.” 

“He, he! Clean ’em yourself,” says the landlady. “You 
young students give yourselves pretty airs. I never heard such 
impudence.” 

“I’ll quit the house this instant,” says Giglio. 

“The sooner the better, young man. Pay your bill and be 
off. All my rooms is wanted for gentlefolks, and not for such 
as you.” 


[84] 



“You may well keep the Bear Inn/’ said GigKo. “You should 
have yourself painted as the sign.” 

The landlady of the Bear went away growling. And Giglio 
returned to his room, where the first thing he saw was the fairy bag 
lying on the table, which seemed to give a little hop as he came in. 
“I hope it has some breakfast in it,” says Giglio, “for I have only 
a very little money left.” But on opening the bag, what do you think 
was there; a blacking-brush and a pot of Warren’s jet, and on the 
pot was written : — 

“ Poor young men their boots must black, 

Use me and cork me and put me back.” 

So Giglio laughed and blacked his boots, and put back the brush 
and the bottle into the bag. 

When he had done dressing himself, the bag gave another little 
hop, and he went to it and took out — 

1. A table-cloth and a napkin. 

2. A sugar-basin full of the best loaf-sugar. 

4, 6, 8, 10. Two forks, two teaspoons, two knives, and a pair 
of sugar-tongs, and a butter-knife, all marked G. 

II, 12, 13. A tea-cup, saucer, and slop-basin. 

14. A jug full of delicious cream. 

15. A canister with black tea and green. 

16. A large tea-urn and boiling water. 

17. A sauce-pan, containing three eggs, nicely done. 

18. A quarter of a pound of best Epping butter. 

19. A brown loaf. 

And if he hadn’t enough now for a good breakfast, I should like 
to know who ever had one! 


[85] 



HUMBLE PIE IS WHOLESOME MEAT 


Giglio, having had his breakfast, popped all the things back 
into the bag, and went out looking for lodgings. I forgot to say 
that this celebrated university town was called Bosforo. 

He took a modest lodging opposite the Schools, paid his bill 
at the inn, and went to his apartment with his trunk, carpet-bag, and 
not forgetting, we may be sure, his other bag. 



When he opened his trunk, which the day before he had filled 
with his best clothes, he found it contained only books. And in 
the first of them which he opened there was written — 

“ Clothes for the back, books for the head: 

Read and remember them when they are read.” 


And in his bag, when Giglio looked in it, he found a student’s cap 
and gown, a writing-book full of paper, an inkstand, pens, and a 

[ 86 ] 


GOOD FOR ALL OF US TO EAT 


Johnson's dictionary, which was very useful to him, as his spelling 
had been sadly neglected. 

So he sat down and worked away, very, very hard for a whole 
year, during which “Mr. Giles" was quite an example to all the 
students in the University of Bosforo. He never got into any riots 
or disturbances. The professors all spoke well of him, and the 
students liked him, too; so that, when at examination, he took all 
the prizes, viz. : — 



all his fellow students said, “Hurray! Hurray for Giles! Giles is 
the boy — the students' joy! Hurray for Giles!" And he brought 
quite a quantity of medals, crowns, books, and tokens of distinction 
home to his lodgings. 

One day after the examinations, as he was diverting himself at 
a coffee-house with two friends (did I tell you that in his bag, every 
Saturday night, he found just enough to pay his bills, with a guinea 
over, for pocket-money ? Didn't I tell you Well, he did, as sure 
as twice twenty makes forty-five), he chanced to look in the “Bosforo 
Chronicle," and read off, quite easily (for he could spell, read, and 
write the longest words now) the following: — 

“Romantic Circumstance. — One of the most extraordinary 
adventures that we have ever heard has set the neighboring country 
of Crim Tartary in a state of great excitement. 

“It will be remembered that when the present revered sovereign 
of Crim Tartary, his Majesty King Padella^ took possession of the 


[87] 



throne, after having vanquished in the terrific battle of Blunderbusco, 
the late King Cavolfiore^ that Prince's only child, the Princess Ros- 
alba, was not found in the royal palace, of which King Padella 
took possession, and, it was said, had strayed into the forest (being 
abandoned by all her attendants), where she had been eaten up by 
those ferocious lions, the last pair of which were captured some 
time since, and brought to the Tower, after killing several hundred 
persons. 

“His Majesty King Padella, who has the kindest heart in the 
world, was grieved at the accident which had occurred to the harm- 
less little Princess, for whom his Majesty’s known benevolence, 
would certainly have provided a fitting establishment^ But her 
death seemed to be certain. The mangled remains of a cloak, and 
a little shoe, were found in the forest, during a hunting party, in 
which the intrepid sovereign of Crim Tartary slew two of the lions’ 
cubs with his own spear. And these interesting relics of an innocent 
little creature were carried home and kept by their finder, the Baron 
Spinachi, formerly an officer in Cavolfiore’s household. The Baron 
was disgraced in consequence of his known legitimist opinions, 
and has lived for some time in the humble capacity of a wood-cutter, 
in a forest, on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Crim Tartary. 

“Last Tuesday week Baron Spinachi and a number of gentlemen, 
attached to the former dynasty, appeared in arms, crying ‘God 
save Rosalba, the first Queen of Crim Tartary!’ and surrounding 
a lady whom report describes as ‘beautiful exceedingly* Her history 
may be authentic, is certainly most romantic. 

“The person calling herself Rosalba states that she was brought 
out of the forest, fifteen years since, by a lady in a car, drawn by 

[ 88 ] 


MOST IMPORTANT NEWS INDEED 


dragons (this account is certainly improhahle)^ that she was left in 
the palace Garden of Blombodinga, where her Royal Highness 
Angelica, now married to his Royal Highness the Prince Bulbo, 
Crown Prince of Crim Tartary, found the child, and, with that ele- 
gant benevolence which has always distinguished the heiress of the 
throne of Paflagonia, gave the little outcast a shelter and a home! 
Her parents not being known, and her garb very humble, the found- 
ling was educated in the Palace in a menial capacity, under the 
name of Betsinda. 

‘‘She did not give satisfaction, and was dismissed, carrying with 
her, certainly, a part of a mantle and a shoe, which she had on when 
first found. According to her statement she quitted Blombodinga 
about a year ago, since which time she has been with the Spinachi 
family. On the very same morning the Prince Giglio, nephew to 
the King of Paflagonia, a young Prince whose character for talent 
and order were, to say truth, none of the highest, also quitted Blom- 
bodinga, and has not been since heard of!’’ 

“What an extraordinary story!” said Smith and Jones, two 
young students, Giglio’s especial friends. 

“Ha! what is this ?” Giglio went on reading — 

“Second Edition, Express. — We hear that the troop under 
Baron Spinachi has been surrounded, and utterly routed, by General 
Count Hogginarmo, and the soi-disant Princess is sent a prisoner to 
the capital. 

“University News. — Yesterday, at the Schools, the dis- 
tinguished young student, Mr. Giles, read a Latin oration, and was 
complimented by the Chancellor of Bosforo, Dr. Prugnaro, with 
the highest University honor — the wooden spoon.” 

[89] 




ON PERUSAL OF THIS LETTER 


‘‘Never mind that stuff,” says Giles, greatly disturbed. “Come 
home with me, my friends — partakers of my academic toils — I 
have that to tell shall astonish your honest minds.” 

“Go it, old boy!” cried the impetuous Smith. 

“Talk away, my buck!” says Jones, a lively fellow. 

With an air of indescribable dignity, Giglio checked their natural, 
but no more seemly familiarity. “Jones, Smith, my good friends,” 
said the Prince, “disguise is henceforth useless, I am no more the 
humble student Giles, I am the descendant of a royal line.” 

Atavis edite regibus, I know, old co ,” cried Jones, he was 

going to say old cock, but a flash from the royal eye again awed 
him. 

“Friends,” continued the Prince, “I am that Giglio, I am, in 
fact, Paflagonia. Rise, Smith, and kneel not in the public street. 
Jones, thou true heart! My faithless uncle, when I was a baby, 
filched from me that brave crown my father left me, bred me all 
young and careless of my rights, like unto hapless Hamlet, Prince of 
Denmark; and had I any thoughts about my wrongs, soothed me 
with promises of near redress. I should espouse his daughter young 
Angelica; we two indeed should reign in Paflagonia. His words 
were false — false as Angelica’s heart! — false as Angelica’s hair, 
color, front teeth ! She looked with her skrew eyes upon young 
Bulbo, Grim Tartary’s stupid heir, and she preferred him. ’Twas then 
I turned my eyes upon Betsinda — Rosalba, as she now is. And 
I saw in her the blushing sum of all perfection; the pink of maiden 
modesty; the nymph that my fond heart had ever woo’d in dreams,” 
etc., etc. 

(I don’t give this speech, which was very fine, but very long; 

[90] 


GIGLIO SWEARS THAT HE’LL ABET HER 


and though Smith and Jones knew nothing about the circumstances, 
my dear reader does, so I go on.) 

The Prince and his young friends hastened home to his apart- 
ment, highly excited by the intelligence, as no doubt by the royal 
narrator s admirable manner of recounting it, and they ran up to 
his room where he had worked so hard at his books. 

On his writing-table was his bag, grown so long that the Prince 
could not help remarking it. He went to it, opened it, and what 
do you think he found in it ? 

A splendid long, gold-handled, red-velvet-scabbarded, cut-and- 
thrust sword, and on the sheath was embroidered, “Rosalba for 
Ever!” 

He drew out the sword, which flashed and illuminated the whole 
room, and called out “Rosalba for ever!” Smith and Jones follow- 
ing him, but quite respectfully this time, and taking the time from 
his Royal Highness. 

And now his trunk opened with a sudden pong, and out there 
came three ostrich feathers in a gold crown, surrounding a beautiful 
shining steel helmet, a cuirass, a pair of spurs, finally a complete 
suit of armor. 

The books on Giglio’s shelves were all gone. Where there had 
been some great dictionaries, Giglio’s friends found two pairs of 

Jack-boots, labelled “Lieutenant Smith,” “ Jones, Esq.,” 

which fitted them to a nicety. Besides, there were helmets, back 
and breast plates, swords, etc., just like in Mr. G. P. R. James’s 
novels, and that evening three cavaliers might have been seen issu- 
ing from the gates of Bosforo, in whom the porters, proctors, etc., 
never thought of recognizing the young Prince and his friends. 

[91] 


NOW GOOD-BYE TO BOOK AND PEN, 


They got horses at a livery stable-keeper’s, and never drew 
bridle until they reached the last town on the frontier, before you 
come to Grim Tartary. Here, as their animals were tired, and the 
cavaliers hungry, they stopped and refreshed at an hostel. I could 
make a chapter of this if I were like some writers, but I like to cram 
my measure tight down, you see, and give you a great deal for your 
money, and in a word, they had some bread and cheese and ale 
upstairs on the balcony of the inn. As they were drinking, drums 
and trumpets sounded nearer and nearer, the market-place was 
filled with soldiers, and his Royal Highness looking forth, recog- 
nized the Paflagonian banners, and the Paflagonian national air 
which the bands were playing. 

The troops all made for the tavern at once, and as they came 
up Giglio exclaimed, on beholding their leader: “Whom do I see? 
Yes! No! It is, it is! Phoo! No, it can’t be! Yes! It is my 
friend, my gallant faithful veteran. Captain Hedzoff ! Ho! Hedzoff! 
Knowest thou not thy Prince, thy Giglio? Good Corporal, me- 
thinks we once were friends. Ha, Sergeant, an’ my memory serves 
me right, we have had many a bout at single stick.” 

“ r faith, we have a many, good my lord,” says the Sergeant. 

“Tell me, what means this mighty armament,” continued his 
Royal Highness from the balcony, “and whither march my Pafla- 
gonians ? ” 

Hedzoff ’s head fell. “My Lord,” he said, “we march as the 
allies of great Padella, Crim Tartary’s monarch.” 

“Crim Tartary’s usurper, gallant Hedzoff! Crim Tartary’s 
grim tyrant, honest Hedzoff!” said the Prince, on the balcony, quite 
sarcastically. 


[92] 


FOLLOW GIGLIO, GENTLEMEN! 


“A soldier, Prince, must needs obey his orders: mine are to 
help his Majesty Padella. And also (though alack that I should 
say it!) to seize wherever I should light upon him — 

“First catch your hare! ha, Hedzoff!” exclaimed his Royal 
Highness. 

“ — On the body of Giglioy whilome Prince of Paflagonia,” 
Hedzoff went on, with indescribable emotion. “My Prince, give up 
your sword without ado. Look! we are thirty thousand men to one!’’ 

“Give up my sword! Giglio give up his sword!” cried the Prince; 
and stepping well forward on to the balcony, the royal youth, with- 
out preparation, delivered a speech so magnificent, that no report 
can do justice to it. It was all in blank verse (in which, from this 
time, he invariably spoke, as more becoming his majestic station). 
It lasted for three days and three nights, during which not a single 
person who heard him was tired, or remarked the difference between 
daylight and dark. The soldiers only cheering tremendously, when 
occasionally, once in nine hours, the Prince paused to suck an orange, 
which Jones took out of the bag. He explained in terms which 
we say we shall not attempt to convey, the whole history of the 
previous transaction: and his determination not only not to give 
up his sword, but to assume his rightful crown: and at the end of 
this extraordinary, this truly gigantic effort. Captain Hedzoff flung 
up his helmet, and cried: “Hurray! Hurray! Long live King 
Giglio!” 

Such were the consequences of having employed his time well 
at College! 

When the excitement had ceased, beer was ordered out for the 
army, and their Sovereign himself did not disdain a little! And 

[93] 


WE’LL WAIT HERE TO BEAT THE PRINCE 


now it was with some alarm that Captain Hedzoff told him his 
division was only the advanced guard of the Paflagonian contingent, 
hastening to King Padella’s aid. The main force being a day’s 
march in the rear under his Royal Highness Prince Bulbo. 

‘‘We will wait here, good friend, to beat the Prince,” his Majesty 
said, “and then will make his royal Father wince.” 



WE RETURN TO ROSALBA. 



ING PADELLA made very similar proposals to 
Rosalba to those which she had received from the 
various princes who, as we have seen, had fallen 
in love with her. His Majesty was a widower, 
and offered to marry his fair captive that instant, 
but she declined his invitation in her usual polite, 
gentle manner, stating that Prince Giglio was her love, and that any 
other union was out of the question. Having tried tears and suppli- 
cations in vain, this violent-tempered monarch menaced her with 
threats and tortures; but she declared she would rather suffer all 
these than accept the hand of her father’s murderer, who left her 
finally, uttering the most awful imprecations, and bidding her pre- 
pare for death on the following morning. 

All night long the King spent in advising how he should get 
rid of this obdurate young creature. Cutting off her head was much 
too easy a death for her; hanging was so common in his Majesty’s 
dominions that it no longer afforded him any sport: finally, he 
bethought himself of a pair of lions which had lately been sent to 

[95] 


HASTEN, RESCUE ! GIGLIO, RUN ! FOR 


him as presents, and he determined, with these ferocious brutes, 
to hunt poor Rosalba down. Adjoining his castle was an amphi- 
theatre where the Prince indulged in bull-baiting, rat-hunting, and 
other ferocious sports. The two lions were kept in a cage under 
this place; their roaring might be heard over the whole city, the 
inhabitants of which, I am sorry to say, thronged in numbers to see 
a poor young lady gobbled up by two wild beasts. 

The King took his place in the royal box, having the officers of 
his court around and the Count Hogginarmo by his side, upon 
whom his Majesty was observed to look very fiercely; the fact is 
royal spies had told the monarch of Hogginarmo’s behavior, his 
proposals to Rosalba, and his offer to fight for the crown. Black 
as thunder looked King Padella at this proud noble, as they sat in the 
front seats of the theatre waiting to see the tragedy whereof poor 
Rosalba was to be the heroine. 

At length that princess was brought out in her night-gown, with 
all her beautiful hair falling down her back, and looking so pretty 
that even the beef-eaters and keepers of the wild animals wept plen- 
tifully at seeing her. And she walked with her poor little feet (only 
luckily the arena was covered with sawdust), and went and leaned 
up against a great stone in the centre of the amphitheatre, round 
which the court and the people were seated in boxes with bars be- 
fore them, for fear of the great, fierce, red-maned, black-throated, 
long-tailed, roaring, bellowing, rushing lions. And now the gates 
were opened, and with a wurrawar-rurawarar two great lean, hungry, 
roaring lions rushed out of their den where they had been kept for 
three weeks on nothing but a little toast-and-water, and dashed 
straight up to the stone where poor Rosalba was waiting. Com- 

[96] 


ELSE OUR POOR ROSALBA’S DONE FOR 


mend her to your patron saints, all you kind people, for she is in a 
dreadful state. 

There was a hum and a buzz all through the circus, and the 
fierce King Padella even felt a little compassion. But Count Hog- 
ginarmo, seated by his Majesty, roared out, ‘‘Hurray! Now for it! 
Soo-soo-soo!” that nobleman being uncommonly angry still at 
Rosalba’s refusal of him. 

But O strange event! O remarkable circumstance! O extra- 
ordinary coincidence, which I am sure none of you could hy any 
possibility have divined! When the lions came to Rosalba, instead 
of devouring her with their great teeth, it was with kisses they gob- 
bled her up! They licked her pretty feet, they nuzzled their noses 
in her lap, they moo’d; they seemed to say: “Dear, dear sister, 
don’t you recollect your brothers in the forest?” And she put her 
pretty white arms round their tawny necks, and kissed them. 

King Padella was much astonished. The Count Hogginarmo 
was extremely disgusted. “Pooh!” the Count cried. “Gammon!” 
exclaimed his Lordship. “These lions are tame beasts come from 
Wombwell’s or Astley’s. It is a shame to put people off in this 
way. I believe they are little boys dressed up in door-mats. They 
are no lions at all.” 

“Ha!” said the King, “you dare to say ‘gammon’ to your sov- 
ereign, do you? These lions are no lions at all, aren’t they? Ho! 
my beef-eaters! Ho! my body-guard! Take this Count Hog- 
ginarmo and fling him into the circus! Give him a sword and 
buckler; let him keep his armor on, and his weather-eye out, and 
fight these lions.” 

The haughty Hogginarmo laid down his opera-glass, and looked 

[97] 


LITTLE SUFFERING VICTIM TENDER! 


0 


scowling round at the King and his attendants. “Touch me not, 
dogs!’’ he said, “or by St. Nicholas the Elder I will gore you! Your 
Majesty thinks Hogginarmo is afraid ? No, not of a hundred thou- 
sand lions! Follow me down into the circus. King Padella, and 
match thyself against one of yon brutes. Thou darest not. Let 
them both come on, then!” And opening a grating of the box, he 
jumped lightly down into the circus. 

Wurra wurra wurra v)ur-aw-aw-avj ! ! I 
In about two minutes 
The Count Hogginarmo was 

GOBBLED UP 

by 

those lions, 
bones, boots, and all 
and 

There was an 
End of him. 

At this the King said: “Serve him~-right, the rebellious ruffian! 
And now, as those lions won’t eat that young woman — ” 

“Let her off! — let her off!” cried the crowd. 

“NO!” roared the King. “Let the beef-eaters go down and 
chop her into small pieces. If the lions defend her, let the archers 
shoot them to death. That hussy shall die in tortures!” 

“A-a-ah!” cried the crowd. “Shame! shame!” 

“Who dares cry out shame.?” cried the furious potentate (so 
little can tyrants command their passions). “Fling any scoundrel 
who says a word down among the lions!” I warrant you there 
was a dead silence then, which was broken by a pang arang pang 
pangkarangpang, and a knight and a herald rode in at the farther 
end of the circus. The knight, in full armor, with his visor up, 
and bearing a letter on the point of his lance. 

[98I 


FROM THESE LIONS HEAVEN DEFEND HER 


“Ha!"’ exclaimed the King, “by my fay, "tis Elephant and Castle, 
pursuivant of my brother of Paflagonia, and the Knight, an my 
memory serves me, is the gallant Hedzoff ! What news from Pafla- 
gonia, gallant Hedzoff? Elephant and Castle, beshrew me, thy 
trumpeting must have made thee thirsty. What will my trusty 
herald like to drink?” 

“Bespeaking first safe conduct from your Lordship,” said Cap- 
tain Hedzoff, “before we take a drink of anything, permit us to 
deliver our king’s message.” 

“My Lordship, ha?” said Crim Tartary, frowning terrifically. 
“That title soundeth strange in the anointed ears of a crowned king. 
Straightway speak out your message, knight and herald!” 

Reigning up his charger in a most elegant manner close under 
the King’s balcony, Hedzoff turned to the herald and bade him 
begin. 

Elephant and Castle, dropping his trumpet over his shoulder, 
took a large sheet of paper out of his hat, and began to read : 

“O yes! O yes! O yes! Know all men by these presents, that we, 
Giglio, King of Paflagonia, Grand Duke of Cappadocia, Sovereign 
Prince of Turkey and the Sausage Islands, having assumed our 
rightful throne and title, long time falsely borne by our usurping 
uncle, styling himself King of Paflagonia — ” 

“Ha!” growled Padella. 

“ — Hereby summon the false traitor, Padella, calling himself 
King of Crim Tartary — ” 

The King’s curses were dreadful. “ Go on. Elephant and Castle ! ” 
said the intrepid Hedzoff. 

“ — To release from cowardly imprisonment his liege lady and 

[99] 


D 


I’LL KEEP CLEAR WHEN LIONS SUP; 


rightful sovereign, Rosalba, Queen of Crim Tartary, and restore 
her to her royal throne, in default of which, I, Giglio, proclaim the 
said Padella, sneak, traitor, humbug, usurper, and coward. I 
challenge him to meet me, with fists or with pistols, with battle-axe 
or sword, with blunderbuss or single-stick, alone or at the head of 
his army, on foot or on horseback, and will prove my words upon 
his wicked, ugly body!” 

“God save the King!” said Captain Hedzoff, executing a demi- 
volte, two semilunes, and three caracols. 

“ Is that all ? ” said Padella, with the terrific calm of concentrated 
fury. 

“That, sir, is all my Royal Master’s message. Here is his Ma- 
jesty’s letter in autograph, and here is his glove, and if any gentleman 
of Crim Tartary chooses to find fault with his Majesty’s expressions, 
I, Tuffskin Hedzoff, Captain of the Guard, am very much at his 
service,” and he waved his lance and looked at the assembly all 
round. 

“And what says my good brother of Paflagonia, my dear son’s 
father-in-law, to this rubbish ? ” asked the King. 

“The King’s uncle hath been deprived of the crown he unjustly 
wore,” said Hedzoff gravely. “He and his ex-minister, Glumboso, 
are now in prison waiting the sentence of my Royal Master. After 
the battle of Bombardaro — ” 

“Of what?” asked the surprised Padella. 

“Of Bombardaro, where my liege, his present Majesty, would 
have performed prodigies of valor, but that the whole of his uncle’s 
army came over to our side, with the exception of Prince Bulbo.” 

“Ah! my boy, my boy, my Bulbo was no traitor!” cried Padella. 
[loo] 


THESE ATE HOGGINARMO UP 


'‘Prince Bulbo, far from coming over to us, ran away, sir; but 
I caught him. The Prince is a prisoner in our army, and the most 
terrific tortures await him if a hair of the Princess Rosalba’s head 
is injured.” 

“Do they.?” exclaimed the furious Padella, who was now per- 
fectly livid with rage. “ Do they indeed ? So much the worse for 
Bulbo. Pve twenty sons as lovely each as Bulbo. Not one but is 
as fit to reign as Bulbo. Whip, whack, flog, starve, rack, punish, 
torture Bulbo — baeak all his bones — roast him or flay him alive 

— pull all his pretty teeth out one by one! But justly dear as Bulbo 
is to me, — joy of my eyes, fond treasure of my soul! ha, ha, ha, ha! 
revenge is dearer still. Ho! torturers, rack-men, executioners — 
light up- the fires and make the pincers hot! get lots of boiling lead! 

— Bring out Rosalba!” 


[lOl] 


V T/ >*• H • t 
■ * • 










r* 

'x 




V 



•• 





»V 


f 


^ ,r 









HOW hedzoff rode back again to king giglio. 



APTAIN HEDZOFF rode away when King Pa- 
della uttered this cruel command, having done 
his duty in delivering the message with which 
his Royal Master had entrusted him. Of course 
he was very sorry for Rosalba, but what could 
he do 

So he returned to King Giglio’s camp and found the young 
monarch in a disturbed state of mind, smoking cigars in the royal 
tent. His Majesty’s agitation was not appeased by the news that 
was brought by his ambassador. “The brutal ruthless ruffian 
royal wretch!” Giglio exclaimed. “As England’s poesy has well 
remarked, ‘The man that lays his hand upon a woman, save in 
the way of kindness, is a villain.’ Ha, Hedzoff?” 

“That he is, your Majesty,” said the attendant. 

“And didst thou see her flung into oil? and didn’t the soothing 
oil — the emollient oil, refuse to boil, good Hedzoff — and to spoil 
the fairest lady ever eyes did look on ? ” 

“Faith, good my liege, I have no heart to look and see a beau- 
teous lady boiling down; I took your royal message to Padella, and 

[ 103] 


OF POOR BULBO, HOW THEY PICKED HIM 




bore it back to you. I told him you would hold Prince Bulbo an- 
swerable. He only said that he had twenty sons as good as Bulbo, 
and forthwith he bade the ruthless executioners proceed.’’ 

“O cruel father — O .unhappy son!” cried the King. “Go, 
some of you, and bring Prince Bulbo hither.” 

Bulbo was brought in chains, looking very uncomfortable. 
Though a prisoner, he had been tolerably happy, perhaps because 
his mind was at rest, and all the fighting was over, and he v^as play- 
ing marbles with his guards, when the King sent for him. 

“O my poor Bulbo,” said his Majesty, with looks of infinite 
compassion, “hast thou heard the news (for you see Giglio wanted 
to break the thing gently to the Prince), thy brutal father has con- 
demned Rosalba — p-p-p-ut her to death, P-p-p-prince Bulbo!” 

“What, killed Betsinda, Boo-hoo-hoo,” cried out Bulbo. “Bet- 
sinda! pretty Betsinda! dear Betsinda! She was the dearest little 
girl in the world! I love her better twenty thousand times even 
than Angelica,” and he went on expressing his grief in so hearty 
and unaffected a manner that the King was quite touched by it, 
and said, shaking Bulbo’s hand, that he wished he had known Bulbo 
sooner. 

Bulbo quite unconsciously, and meaning for the best, offered to 
come and sit with his Majesty, and smoke a cigar with him, and 
console him. The royal kindness supplied Bulbo with a cigar; he 
had not had one, he said, since he was taken prisoner. 

And now think what must have been the feelings of the most 
merciful of monarchs^ when he informed his prisoner, that in con- 
sequence of King Padella’s cruel and dastardly behavior to Rosalba, 
Prince Bulbo must instantly be executed! The noble Giglio could 

[ 104] 


OUT, AS USUAL, FOR A VICTIM 


not restrain his tears, nor could the Grenadiers, nor the officers, nor 
could Bulbo himself, when the matter was explained to him; and 
he was brought to understand that his Majesty’s promise, of course, 
was above every thing, and Bulbo must submit. So poor Bulbo was 
led out. Hedzoff trying to console him, by pointing out that if he 
had w'on the battle of Bombardaro he might have hanged Prince 
Giglio. “Yes! But that is no comfort to me now!” said poor 
Bulbo; nor indeed was it, poor fellow. 

He was told the business would be done the next morning at 
eight, and was taken back to his dungeon, where every attention 
was paid to him. The gaoler’s wife sent him tea, and the turnkey’s 
daughter begged him to write his name in her album, where a many 
gentleman had wrote it on like occasions! “Bother your album!” 
says Bulbo. The undertaker came and measured him for the 
handsomest coffin which money could buy — even this didn’t con- 
sole Bulbo. The cook brought him dishes which he once used to 
like; but he wouldn’t touch them; he sat down and began writing 
an adieu to Angelica, as the clock kept always ticking, and the hands 
drawing nearer to next morning. The barber came in at night, 
and offered to shave him for the next day. Prince Bulbo kicked 
him away, and went on writing a few words to Princess Angelica, as 
the clock kept always ticking, and the hands hopping nearer and 
nearer to next morning. He got up on the top of a hat-box, on the 
top of a chair, on the top of his bed, on the top of his table, and 
looked out to see whether he might escape, as the clock kept always 
ticking and the hands drawing nearer, and nearer, and nearer. 

But looking out of the window was one thing, and jumping 
another; and the town-clock struck seven. So he got into bed for 

[ 105 ] 


tamf mi rawiiw^ 







m& 


a little sleep, but the gaoler came and woke him, and said: ^‘Git up 
your Royal Ighness, if you please, it’s ten minutes to eight!'' 

So poor Bulbo got up ; he had gone to bed in his clothes (the lazy 
boy), and he shook himself, and said he didn’t mind about dressing, 
or having any breakfast, thank you; and he saw the soldiers who 
had come for him. “Lead on!” he said; and they led the way. 
deeply affected; and they came into the court-yard, and out into 
the square, and there was King Giglio come to take leave of him, 
and his Majesty most kindly shook hands with him, and the gloomy 
procession marched on — when hark! 


BULBO’S PAINS SEEM WELL-NIGH ENDED 


Haw — wurraw — wurraw — aworr! ' 

A roar of wild beasts was heard. And who should come riding 
into town, frightening away the boys, and even the beadle and police- 
man, but Rosalba! 

The fact is, that when Captain Hedzoff entered into the court 
of Snapdragon Castle, and was discoursing with King Padella, the 
lions made a dash at the open gate, gobbled up the six beef-eaters 
in a jiffy, and away they went with Rosalba on the back of one of 
them, and they carried her, turn and turn about, till they came to 
the city where Prince Giglio’s army was encamped. 

When the King heard of the Queen’s arrival, you may think 
how he rushed out of his breakfast-room to hand her Majesty off 
her lion ! The lions were grown as fat as pigs now, having had Hog- 
ginarmo and all those beef-eaters, and were so tame any body might 
pat them. 

While Giglio knelt (most gracefully) and helped the Princess, 
Bulbo, for his part, rushed up and kissed the lion. He flung his 
arms round the forest monarch; he hugged him, and laughed and 
cried for joy. ‘‘Oh, you darling old beast, oh, how glad I am to 
see you, and the dear, dear Bets — that is, Rosalba.” 

“What, is it you? poor Bulbo,” said the Queen. “Oh, how 
glad I am to see you;” and she gave him her hand to kiss. King 
Giglio slapped him most kindly on the back, and said, “Bulbo, 
my boy, I am delighted, for your sake, that her Majesty has arrived.” 

“So am I,” said Bulbo; “and you know why” Captain Hedzoff 
here came up. “Sire, it is half-past eight; shall we proceed with 
the execution ? ” 

“Execution, what for?” asked Bulbo. 

[107] 


THE YOUNG QUEEN RESCUES ALL 


[ 

“An officer only knows his orders/’ replied Captain Hedzoff, 
showing his warrant, on which his Majesty King Giglio smilingly 
said, “Prince Bulbo was reprieved this time,” and most graciously 
invited him to breakfast. 



HOW A TREMENDOUS BATTLE TOOK PLACE, AND WHO WON IT. 



S soon as King Padella heard, what we know already, 
that his victim, the lovely Rosalba, had escaped 
him, his Majesty’s fury knew no bounds, and he 
pitched the Lord Chancellor, Lord Chamberlain, 
and every officer of the crown whom he could set 
eyes on, into the caldron of boiling oil prepared 
for the Princess. Then he ordered out his whole army, horse, foot, 
and artillery; and set forth at the head of an innumerable host, and 
I should think twenty thousand drummers, trumpeters, and fifers. 

King Giglio’s advanced guard, you may be sure, kept that mon- 
arch acquainted with the enemy’s dealings, and he was in no wise 
disconcerted. He was much too polite to alarm the Princess, his 
lovely guest, with any unnecessary rumors of battles impending; 
on the contrary, he did everything to amuse and divert her; gave her 
a most elegant breakfast, dinner, lunch, and got up a ball for her 
that evening, when he danced with her every single dance. 

Poor Bulbo was taken into favor again, and allowed to go quite 
free now. He had new clothes given him, was called, “My good 
cousin” by his Majesty, and was treated with the greatest distinc- 

[ 109] 


KISSINGS, HUGGINGS, BILLINGS, CODINGS, 


tion by everybody. But it was easy to see he was very melancholy. 
The fact is, the sight of Betsinda, who looked perfectly lovely in an 
elegant new dress, set poor Bulbo frantic in love with her again. 
And he never thought about Angelica, now Princess Bulbo, whom 
he had left at home, and who, as we know, did not care much about 
him. 

The King, dancing the twenty-fifth polka with Rosalba, remarked 
with wonder the ring she wore; and then Rosalba told hirn haw she 
had got it from Gruffanuff, who no doubt had picked it up when 
Angelica flung it away. 

“Yes,” says the Fairy Blackstick, who had come to see the young 
people, and who had very likely certain plans regarding them. “That 
ring I gave the Queen, Giglio’s mother, who was not, saving your 
presence, a very wise woman; it is enchanted, and whoever wears 
it looks beautiful in the eyes of the world. I made poor Prince 
Bulbo, when he was christened, the present of a rose which made him 
look handsome while he had it; but he gave it to Angelica, who 
instantly looked beautiful again, whilst Bulbo relapsed into his nat- 
ural plainness.” 

“ Rosalba needs no ring, I am sure,” says Giglio, with a low bow. 
■“She is beautiful enough, in my eyes, without any enchanted aid.” 

“O sir,” said Rosalba. 

“Take off the ring and try,” said the King, and resolutely drew 
the ring off her finger. In his eyes she looked just as handsome as 
before! 

The King was thinking of throwing the ring away, as it was so 
flangerous and made all the people so mad about Rosalba, but being 
a prince of great humor, and good humor too, he cast his eyes upon a 

[no] 


AND ALL SORTS OF MERRY DOINGS 


poor youth who happened to be looking on very disconsolately, and 
said: 

“Bulbo, my poor lad! come and try on this ring. The Princess 
Rosalba makes it a present to you.” The magic properties of this 
ring were uncommonly strong, for no sooner had Bulbo put it on, 
but lo and behold! he appeared a personable, agreeable young 
prince enough, — with a fine complexion, fair hair, rather stout, 
and with bandy legs; but these were encased in such a beautiful 
pair of yellow morocco boots that nobody remarked them. And 
Bulbo’s spirits rose up almost immediately after he had looked in 
the glass, and he talked to their Majesties in the most lively, agree- 
able manner, and danced opposite the Queen with one of her pret- 
tiest maids of honor, and after looking at her Majesty, could not 
help saying: “How very odd; she is very pretty, but not so extra- 
ordinarily handsome.” “Oh no, by no means!” says the Maid of 
Honor. 

“But what care I, dear sir,” says the Queen, who overheard 
them, “if you think I am good-looking enough .?” 

His Majesty’s glance in reply to this affectionate speech was 
such that no painter could draw it. And the Fairy Blackstick said: 
“Bless you, my darling children! Now you are united and happy; 
:and now you see what I said from the first, that a little misfortune 
has done you both good. Tow, Giglio, had you been bred in pros- 
perity, would scarcely have learned to read or write, — you would 
have been idle and extravagant, and could not have been a good 
king as now you will be. You, Rosalba, would have been so flat- 
tered that your little head might have been turned like Angelica’s, 
who thought herself too good for Giglio.” 

[Ill] 


AFTER KISSING, BILLING, COOING, 


0 


“As if anybody could be good enough for him” cried Rosalba. 

“O you, you darling!"" says Giglio. And so she was; and he 
was just holding out his arms in order to give her a hug before the 
whole company, when a messenger came rushing in, and said: “My 
Lord, the enemy!"" 

“To arms!"" cries Giglio. 

“Oh mercy!"" says Rosalba, and fainted of course. He snatched 
one kiss from her lips, and rushed ^orth to the field of battle! 

The Fairy had provided King Giglio with a suit of armor, which 
was not only embroidered all over with jewels, and blinding to 
your eyes to look at, but was water-proof, gun-proof, and sword- 
proof; so that in the midst of the very hottest battles his Majesty 
rode about as calmly as if he had been a British grenadier at Alma. 
Were I engaged in fighting for my country, I should like such a suit 
of armor as Prince Giglio wore: but you know he was a prince of a 
fairy tale, and they always have these wonderful things. 

Besides the fairy armor, the prince had a fairy horse, which 
would gallop at any pace you please; and a fairy sword, which 
would lengthen, and run through a whole regiment of enemies at 
once. With such a weapon at command, I wonder, for my part, 
he thought of ordering his army out; but forth they all came in 
magnificent new uniforms, Hedzoff and the Prince"s two college 
friends each commanding a division, and his Majesty prancing in 
person at the head of them all. 

Ah! if I had the pen of a Sir Archibald Alison, my dear friends, 
would I not now entertain you with the account of a most tremendous 
shindy .? Should not fine blows be struck .? dreadful wounds be 

[II2] 


UP, SIR KING! FOR MISCHIEF’S BREWING! 


delivered ? arrows darken the air ? cannon balls crash through the 
battalions! cavalry charge infantry? infantry pitch into cavalry? 
bugles blow; drums beat; horses neigh; fifes sing; soldiers roar, 
swear, hurray; officers shout out: '‘Forward, my men!” “This 
way, lads!” “Give it ’em, boys. Fight for King Giglio, and the 
cause of right!” “King Padella forever!” Would I not describe 
all this, I say, and in the very finest language, too ? But this humble 
pen does not possess the skill necessary for the description of combats. 
In a word, the overthrow of King Padella’s army was so complete, 
that if they had been Russians you could not have wished them to 
be more utterly smashed and confounded. 

As for that usurping monarch, having performed acts of valor 
much more considerable than could be expected of a royal ruffian 
and usurper, who had such a bad cause, and who was so cruel to 
women, — as for King Padella, I say, when his army ran away, 
the King ran away too, kicking his first general. Prince Punchikoff, 
from his saddle, and galloping away on the Prince’s horse, having 
indeed had twenty-five or twenty-six of his own shot under him. 
Hedzoff coming up, and finding Punchikoff down, as you may 
imagine very speedily disposed of him. Meanwhile King Padella 
was scampering off as hard as his horse could lay legs to ground. 
Fast as he scampered, I promise you somebody else galloped faster; 
and that individual, as no doubt you are aware, was the Royal Giglio, 
who kept bawling out: “Stay, traitor! Turn, miscreant, and defend 
thyself! Stand, tyrant, coward, ruffian, royal wretch, till I cut thy 
ugly head from thy usurping shoulders!” And with his fairy sword, 
which elongated itself at will, his Majesty kept poking and prodding 
Padella in the back, until that wicked monarch roared with anguish. 

[113] 


TRUMPETS PEALING, CHARGERS PRANCING 





When he was fairly brought to bay, Padella turned and dealt 
Prince Giglio a prodigious crack over the sconce with his battle-axe, 
a most enormous weapon, which had cut down I don’t know how 
many regiments in the course of the afternoon. But, Law bless 
you! though the blow fell right down on his Majesty’s helmet, it 
made no more impression than if Padella had struck him with a 
pat of butter; his battle-axe crumpled up in Padella’s hand, and 
the Royal Giglio laughed for very scorn at the impotent efforts of 
that atrocious usurper. 

At the ill success of his blow the Crim Tartar monarch was justly 
irritated. ‘‘If,” says he to Giglio, “you ride a fairy horse, and 
wear fairy armor, what on earth is the use of my hitting you ? I 
may as well give myself up a prisoner at once. Your Majesty won’t, 
I suppose, be so mean as to strike a poor fellow who can’t strike 
again ? ” 

The justice of Padella’s remark struck the magnanimous Giglio. 
“Do you yield yourself a prisoner, Padella?” says he. 

“Of course I do,” says Padella. 

“Do you acknowledge Rosalba as your rightful Queen, and give 
up the crown and all your treasures to your rightful mistress ? ” 

“If I must I must,” says Padella, who was naturally very sulky. 

By this time King Giglio’s aids-de-camp had come up, whom his 
Majesty ordered to bind the prisoner. And they tied his hands 
behind him, and bound his legs tight under his horse, having set him 
with his face to the tail; and in this fashion he was led back to King 
Giglio’s quarters, and thrust into the very dungeon where young 
Bulbo had been confined. 

Padella (who was a very different person in the depth of his 
[114] 


STABBING, SLASHING, AXING, LANCING 



distress to Padella the proud wearer of the Crim Tartar crown) 
now most affectionately and earnestly asked to see his son — his 
dear eldest boy — his darling Bulbo; and that good-natured young 
man never once reproached his haughty parent for his unkind con- 
duct the day before, when he would have left Bulbo to be shot with- 
out any pity, but came to see his father, and spoke to him through 
the grating of the door, beyond which he was not allowed to go, and 
brought him some sandwiches from the grand supper which his 
Majesty was giving above stairs, in honor of the brilliant victory 
which had just been achieved. 

“I cannot stay with you long, sir,” says Bulbo, who was in his 
best ball dress, as he handed his father in the prog, “ I am engaged 
to dance the next quadrille with her Majesty Queen Rosalba, and 
I hear the fiddles playing at this very moment.” 

So Bulbo went back to the ball-room, and the wretched Padella 
ate his solitary supper in silence and tears. 

All was now joy in King Giglio^s circle. Dancing, feasting, 
fun, illuminations, and jollifications of all sorts ensued. The people 
through whose villages they passed were ordered to illuminate their 
cottages at night, and scatter flowers on the roads during the day. 
They were requested, and I promise you they did not like to refuse, 
to serve the troops liberally with eatables and wine; besides, the 
army was enriched by the immense quantity of plunder which was 
found in King Padella’s camp, and taken from his soldiers, who 
(after they had given up everything) were allowed to fraternize 
with the conquerors, and the united forces marched back by easy 
stages towards King Giglio’s capital, his royal banner and that of 

[115] 




NOW THE DREADFUL BATTLE’S OVER, 


[ 


Queen Rosalba being carried in front of the troops. Hedzoff was 
made a Duke and a Field Marshal, Smith and Jones were promoted 
to be Earls, the Grim Tartar Order of the Pumpkin and the Pa- 
flagonian decoration of the Cucumber were freely distributed by their 
Majesties to the army. Queen Rosalba wore the Paflagonian Ribbon 
of the Cucumber across her riding habit, whilst King Giglio never 
appeared without the grand Cordon of the Pumpkin. How the 
people cheered them as they rode along side by side! They were 
pronounced to be the handsomest couple ever seen; that was a 
matter of course; but they really were very handsome, and, had they 
been otherwise, would have looked so, they were so happy! Their 
Majesties were never separated during the whole day, but break- 
fasted, dined, and supped together always, and rode side by side, 
interchanging elegant compliments, and indulging in the most 
delightful conversation. At night, her Majesty’s ladies of honor 
(who had all rallied round her the day after King Padella’s defeat) 
came and conducted her to the apartments prepared for her; while 
King Giglio, surrounded by his gentlemen, withdrew to his own 
royal quarters. It was agreed they should be married as soon as 
they reached the capital, and orders were dispatched to the Arch- 
bishop of Blombodinga, to hold himself in readiness to perform the 
interesting ceremony. Duke Hedzoff carried the message, and 
gave instructions to have the Royal Castle splendidly refurnished and 
painted afresh. The Duke seized Glumboso, the Ex-prime Minister, 
and made him refund that considerable sum of money which the 
old scoundrel had secreted out of the late King’s treasure. He 
also clapped Valoroso into prison (who, by the way, had been de- 
throned for some considerable period past), and when the ex-monarch 

[ii6] 


ONWARD RODE THEY, MAID AND LOVER 


weakly remonstrated, Hedzoff said: ‘‘A soldier, sir, knows but his 
duty; my orders are to lock you up along with the Ex-King Padella, 
whom I have brought hither a prisoner under guard.’’ So these 
two ex-royal personages were sent for a year to the House of Correc- 
tion, and thereafter were obliged to become monks, of the severest 
Order of Flagellants, in which state, by fasting, by vigils, by flogging 
(which they administered to one another, humbly but resolutely), 
no doubt they exhibited a repentance for their past misdeeds, usurpa- 
tions, and private and public crimes. 

As for Glumboso, that rogue was sent to the galleys, and never 
had an opportunity to steal any more. 









HOW THEY ALL JOURNEYED BACK TO THE CAPITAL. 

i 

HE Fairy Blackstick, by whose means this young 
King and Queen had certainly won their respective 
crowns back, would come not unfrequently to pay 
them a little visit — as they were riding in their 
triumphal progress towards Giglio’s capital — 
change her wand into a pony, and travel by their 
Majesties* side, giving them the very best advice. I am not sure 
that King Giglio did not think the Fairy and her advice rather a 
bore, fancying it was his own valor and merits which had put him 
on his throne and conquered Padella; and, in fine, I fear he rather 
gave himself airs towards his best friend and patroness. She ex- 
horted him to deal justly by his subjects, to draw mildly on the 
taxes, never to break his promise when he had once given it, — and 
in all respects to be a good king. 

“A good king, my dear Fairy!** cries Rosalba. “Of course he 
will. Break his promise! Can you fancy my Giglio would ever 
do anything so improper, so unlike him? No! never!** and she 
looked fondly towards Giglio, whom she thought a pattern of per- 
fection. 

[119] 


] 


BULBO NOW IS HAPPY QUITE, 


‘‘Why is Fairy Blackstick always advising me, and telling me how 
to manage my government, and warning me to keep my word ? 
Does she suppose that I am not a man of sense and a man of honor ? ’’ 
asks Giglio testily. “ Methinks she rather presumes upon her position.’’ 

“Hush! dear Giglio,” says Rosalba. “You know Blackstick 
has been very kind to us, and we must not offend her.” But the 
Fairy was not listening to Giglio’s testy observations; she had fallen 
back, and was trotting on her pony by Bulbo’s side, who rode a 
donkey, and made himself generally beloved in the army by his 
cheerfulness, kindness, and good humor to everbody. He was eager 
to see his darling Angelica. He thought there never was such a 
charming being. Blackstick did not tell him it was the possession 
of the magic rose that made Angelica so lovely in his eyes. She 
brought him the very best accounts of his little wife, whose mis- 
fortunes and humiliations had indeed very greatly improved her; 
and you see she could whisk off on her wand a hundred miles a 
minute, and be back in no time, and so carry polite messages from 
Bulbo to Angelica, and from Angelica to Bulbo, and comfort that 
young man upon his journey. 

When the Royal party arrived at the last stage before you reach 
Blombodinga, who should be in waiting, in her carriage there with 
her lady of honor by her side, but the Princess Angelica. She rushed 
into her husband’s arms, scarcely stopping to make a passing curtsey 
to the King and Queen. She had no eyes but for Bulbo, who ap- 
peared perfectly lovely to her on account of the fairy ring which he 
wore, whilst she herself, wearing the magic rose in her bonnet, seemed 
entirely beautiful to the enraptured Bulbo. 

A splendid luncheon was served to the Royal party, of which 

[ 120 ] 


MADAM GRUFF DEMANDS HER RIGHT 


the Archbishop, the Chancellor, Duke Hedzoff, Countess Gruff- 
anuff, and all our friends partook. The Fairy Blackstick being seated 
on the left of King Giglio, with Bulbo and Angelica beside her. 
You could hear the joy-bells ringing in the capital, and the guns 
which the citizens were firing off in honor of their Majesties. 

“What can have induced that hideous old Gruff anuff to dress 
herself up in such an absurd way? Did you ask her to be your 
bridesmaid, my dear?'' says Giglio to Rosalba. “What a figure 
of fun Gruffy is!" 

Gruffy was seated opposite their Majesties, between the Arch- 
bishop and the Lord Chancellor, and a figure of fun she certainly 
was, for she was dressed in a low white silk dress, with lace over, a 
wreath of white roses on her wig, a splendid lace veil, and her yellow 
old neck was covered with diamonds. She ogled the King in such 
a manner that his Majesty burst out laughing. 

“Eleven o'clock!" cries Giglio, as the great Cathedral bell of 
Blombodinga tolled that hour. “Gentlemen and ladies, we must be 
starting. Archbishop, you must be at church I think before twelve ? " 

“We must be at church before twelve," sighs out Gruffanuff 
in a languishing voice, hiding her old face behind her fan. 

“And then I shall be the happiest man in my dominions," cries 
Giglio, with an elegant bow to the blushing Rosalba. 

“O my Giglio! O my dear Majesty!" exclaims Gruffanuff; 
“and can it be that this happy moment at length has arrived — " 

“Of course it has arrived," says the King. 

“ — And that I am to become the enraptured bride of my adored 
Giglio!" continues Gruffanuff. “Lend me a smelling-bottle, some- 
body. I certainly shall faint with joy." 

[I2l] 


GIGLIO SHOWS EXTREME DISGUST 


0 


“ T ou my bride ? ’’ roars out Giglio. 

*'Tou marry my Prince?” cries poor Rosalba. 

“Pooh! Nonsense! The woman’s mad!” exclaims the King. 
And all the courtiers exhibited, by their countenances and expressions, 
marks of surprise, or ridicule, or incredulity, or wonder. 

“I should like to know who else is going to be married, if I am 
not ? ” shrieks out Gruffanuff. “ I should like to know if King Giglio 
is a gentleman, and if there is such a thing as justice in Paflagonia ? 
Lord Chancellor! my Lord Archbishop! will your lordships sit by 
and see a poor, fond, confiding, tender creature put upon ? Has 
not Prince Giglio promised to marry his Barbara ? Is not this 
Giglio’s signature ? Does not this paper declare that he is mine, 
and only mine ? ” And she handed to his Grace the Archbishop the 
document which the Prince signed that evening when she wore the 
magic ring, and Giglio drank so much champagne. And the old 
Archbishop, taking out his eyeglasses, read: “ ‘This is to give notice 
that I, Giglio, only son of Savio, King of Paflagonia, hereby promise 
to marry the charming Barbara Griselda Countess Gruffanuff and 
widow of the late Jenkins Gruffanuff, Esq.’ ” 

“H’m,” says the Archbishop, “the document is certainly a — a 
document.” 

“Phoo,” says the Lord Chancellor, “the signature is not in his 
Majesty’s handwriting.” Indeed, since his studies at Bosforo, 
Giglio had made an immense improvement in caligraphy. 

“Is it your handwriting, Giglio?” cries the Fairy Blackstick, 
with an awful severity of countenance. 

“Y — y — ^y — es,” poor Giglio gasps out. “I had quite forgotten 
the confounded paper; she can’t mean to hold me by it. You old 


SAYS HE WON’T, BUT KNOWS HE MUST 


wretch, what will you take to let me off ? Help the Queen, some one, 
— her Majesty has fainted.” 

‘‘Chop her head off!” f Exclaim the impetuous Hedz- 
“ Smother the old witch!” -j off, the ardent Smith, and the 
“Pitch her into the river!” ( faithful Jones. 

But Gruffanuff flung her arms round the Archbishop’s neck, 
and bellowed out, “Justice, justice, my Lord Chancellor!” so loudly, 
that her piercing shrieks caused every body to pause. As for Ros- 
alba, she was borne away lifeless by her ladies; and you may imagine 
the look of agony which Giglio cast towards that lovely being, as 
his hope, his joy, his darling, his all in all, was thus removed, and 
in her place the horrid old Gruffanuff rushed up to his side, and 
once more shrieked out, “Justice! justice!” 

“Won’t you take that sum of money which Glumboso hid?” 
says Giglio, “two hundred and eighteen thousand millions, or there- 
abouts. It’s a handsome sum.” 

“I will have that and you too!” says Gruffanuff. 

“Let us throw the crown jewels into the bargain,” gasps out 
Giglio. 

“I will wear them by my Giglio’s side!” says Gruffanuff. 

“Will half, three-quarters, five-sixths, nineteen-twentieths, of 
my kingdom do. Countess ? ” asks the trembling monarch. 

“What were all Europe to me without yow, my Giglio?” cries 
Gruff, kissing his hand. 

“ I won’t, I can’t, I shan’t, — I’ll resign the crown first,” shouts 
Giglio, tearing away his hand ; but Gruff clung to it. 

“I have a competency, my love,” she says, “and with thee and 
a cottage thy Barbara will be happy.” 

[ 123] 


FAIRY, FAIRY, GIVE ME COUNSEL 


0 


Giglio was half mad with rage by this time. “I will not marry 
her,” says he. “O Fairy, Fairy, give me counsel!” And as he spoke 
he looked wildly round at the severe face of the Fairy Blackstick. 

“ ‘Why is Fairy Blackstick always advising me, and warning 
me to keep my word ? Does she suppose that I am not a man of 
honor?’” said the Fairy, quoting Giglio’s own haughty words. 
He quailed under the brightness of her eyes; he felt that there was 
no escape for him from that awful inquisition. 

“Well, Archbishop,” said he, in a dreadful voice, that made his 
Grace start, “since this Fairy has led me to the height of happiness 
but to dash me down into the depths of despair, since I am to lose 
Rosalba, let me at least keep my honor. Get up. Countess, and let 
us be married; I can keep my word, but I can die afterwards.” 

“O dear Giglio,” cries Gruff anuff, skipping up, “I knew, I 
knew I could trust thee — I knew that my Prince was the soul of 
honor. Jump into your carriages, ladies and gentlemen, and let 
us go to church at once; and as for dying, dear Giglio, no, no: — 
thou wilt forget that insignificant little chambermaid of a Queen 
— thou wilt live to be consoled by thy Barbara! She wishes to be a 
Queen, and not a Queen Dowager, my gracious Lord!” and hanging 
upon poor Giglio’s arm, and leering and grinning in his face in the 
most disgusting manner, this old wretch tripped off in her white 
satin shoes, and jumped into the very carriage which had been got 
ready to convey Giglio and Rosalba to Church. The cannons roared 
again, the bells pealed triple-bobmajors, the people came out fling- 
ing flowers upon the path of the royal bride and bridegroom, and 
Gruff looked out of the gilt coach window and bowed and grinned 
to them. Phoo! the horrid old wretch! 

[124] 


AND NOW WE COME TO THE LAST SCENE IN THE PANTOMIME. 



HE many ups and downs of her life had given the Prin- 
cess Rosalba prodigious strength of mind, and that 
highly principled young woman presently recovered 
from her fainting fit out of which Fairy Blackstick, by 
a precious essence which the Fairy always carried in 
her pocket, awakened her. Instead of tearing her hair, 
crying and bemoaning herself, and fainting again, as many young 
women would have done, Rosalba remembered that she owed an 
example of firmness to her subjects, and though she loved Giglio 
more than her life, was determined, as she told the Fairy, not to 
interfere between him and justice, or to cause him to break his royal 
word. 

“I cannot marry him, but I shall love him always,” says she to 
Blackstick; “I will go and be present at his marriage with the Count- 
ess, and sign the book, and wish them happy with all my heart. 1 
will see, when I get home, whether I cannot make the new Queen 
some handsome presents. The Crim Tartary crown diamonds are 
uncommonly fine, and I shall never have any use for them. I will 

[ 125] 


PLANS OF ROGUES ARE OFTEN CROSSED, 


Q 


live and die unmarried like Queen Elizabeth, and, of course, I shall 
leave my crown to Giglio when I quit this world. Let us go and see 
them married, my dear Fairy, let me say my one last farewell to 
him; and then, if you please, I will return to my own dominions,'' 

So the Fairy kissed Rosalba with peculiar tenderness, and at 
once changed her wand into a very comfortable coach-and-four, 
with a steady coachman, and two respectable footmen behind; and 
the Fairy and Rosalba got into the coach, which Angelica and Bulbo 
entered after them. As for honest Bulbo, he was blubbering in the 
most pathetic manner, quite overcome by Rosalba's misfortune. 
She was touched by the honest fellow's sympathy, promised to 
restore to him the confiscated estates of Duke Padella, his father, 
and created him, as he sat there in the coach. Prince, High- 
ness, and First Grandee of the Grim Tartar Empire. The coach 
moved on, and, being a fairy coach, soon came up with the bridal 
procession. 

Before the ceremony at the church it was the custom in Paflagonia, 
as it is in other countries, for the bride and bridegroom to sign the 
Contract of Marriage, which was to be witnessed by the Chancellor, 
Minister, Lord Mayor, and principal officers of state. Now, as the 
Royal Palace was being painted and furnished anew, it was not 
ready for the reception of the King and his bride, who proposed at 
first to take up their residence at the Prince's Palace, that one which 
Valoroso occupied when Angelica was born, and before he usurped 
the throne. 

So the marriage party drove up to the Palace: the dignitaries 
got out of their carriages and stood aside; poor Rosalba stepped 
out of her coach, supported by Bulbo, and stood almost fainting up 

[126] 


GRUFFY’S HUSBAND WON AND LOST 


against the railings, so as to have a last look of her dear Giglio. As 
for Blackstick, she, according to her custom, had flown out of the 
coach window in some inscrutable manner, and was now standing 
at the palace door. 

Giglio came up the steps with his horrible bride on his arm, 
looking as pale as if he were going to execution. He only frowned 
at the F airy Blackstick — he was angry with her, and thought she 
came to insult his misery. 

“Get out of the way, pray,” says Gruffanuff, haughtily. “I 
wonder why you are always poking your nose into other people^s 
affairs ? ” 

“Are you determined to make this poor young man unhappy?” 
says Blackstick. 

“To marry him, yes! What business is it of yours? Pray, 
madam, don’t say 'you’ to a Queen,” cries Gruffanuff. 

“You won’t take the money he offered you?” 

“No.” 

“You won’t let him off his bargain, though you know you cheated 
him when you made him sign the paper ? ” 

“Impudence! Policemen, remove this woman!” cries Gruff- 
anuff. And the policemen were rushing forward, but with a wave 
of her wand the Fairy struck them all like so many statues in their 
places. 

“You won’t take anything in exchange for your bond, Mrs. 
Gruffanuff,” cries the Fairy, with awful severity. “I speak for the 
last time.” 

“No!” shrieks Gruffanuff, stamping with her foot. “I’ll have 
my husband, my husband, my husband!” 

[ 127] 



‘‘ You Shall have your Husband!’’ the Fairy Blackstick 
cried; and advancing a step laid her hand upon the nose of the 
Knocker. 

As she touched it, the brass nose seemed to elongate, the open 
mouth opened still wider, and uttered a roar which made everybody 
start. The eyes rolled wildly; the arms and legs uncurled themselves, 
writhed about, and seemed to lengthen with each twist; the knocker 
expanded into a figure in yellow livery, six feet high; the screws by 
which it was fixed to the door unloosed themselves, and Jenkins 
Gruffanuff once more trod the threshold off which he had been 
lifted more than twenty years ago! 

[128] 


so OUR LITTLE STORY ENDS 
MERRY CHRISTMAS, GOOD MY FRIENDS 


“Master’s not at home,” says Jenkins, just in his old voice; and 
Mrs. Jenkins, giving a dreadful youp^ fell down in a fit, in which 
nobody minded her. 

For everybody was shouting: “Huzzay! huzzay!” “Hip, hip, 
hurray!” “Long live the King and Queen!” “Were such things 
ever seen.?” “No, never, never, never!” “The Fairy Blackstick 
forever ! ” 

The bells were ringing double peals, the guns roaring and bang- 
ing most prodigiously. Bulbo was embracing everybody; the Lord 
Chancellor was flinging up his wig and shouting like a madman; 
Hedzoff had got the Archbishop round the waist, and they were danc- 
ing a jig for joy; and as for Giglio, I leave you to imagine what he 
was doing, and if he kissed Rosalba once, twice — twenty thousand 
times, Fm sure I don’t think he was wrong. 

So Gruflfanuff opened the hall door with a low bow, just as he 
had been accustomed to do, and they all went in and signed the book, 
and then they went to church and were married, and the Fairy 
Blackstick sailed away on her cane, and was never more heard of 
in Paflagonia. 

And here ends the fireside pantomime. 








